Devotion
by counselor
Summary: Edward moves into a multi-family flat. He sees Bella the first day.
1. Chapter 1

Devotion

It was an old building. And Edward was used to that. Old. Relics. Sacred Antiquities. The cloying scent…of silence. Labyrinths of settled dust and statues crowded into storage. Each fixed eye holding the chipped, faded Requiem of keening and tears-desperate novenas and hopeful kisses.

He could always feel history. It was more than the grime of pollution on gray stones gone to black, or the feet of Christ rubbed free of paint revealing the plaster bones beneath. He felt too much, so much…that he was numb.

Numb as he looked into the courtyard, his brief, unpacked boxes stacked behind him on the yellowed hardwood floors like all the stories in his chest and stomach, stories he'd had no time or will to process.

A child played along the brick border that framed a courtyard garden. It wasn't beautiful…the garden. No one tended it like a calling. No one loved.

The child was lovely. She sang to herself as she balanced, arms outstretched. Her mother called her from the open window above. _Shaniqua!_

Edward stepped back from the window. How would it look? The new man…unmarried and well past the age for it, standing near his sunroom window staring at a little girl.

He had learned to see himself as others did. Yes, that had been his focus…until he'd lost himself, until his spirit merged with what was expected and he didn't question it any longer, the 'it' being…everything.

He stood back from the window, hands in his pockets. He wasn't used to this lack of motivation. He'd moved here caught up in this industrious idea he'd survive just fine, but once the boxes were in, and the library table…it felt like more of an ending.

The bright bell of a woman's voice startled him out of the fog of nothing. She was soon in his line of vision, carrying a box of her own. Some kind of greens flopped over the side of the box. She had groceries. She was yelling up to Shaniqua's mother? "They were out," she was saying.

"Bella," Shaniqua's mom whined back. "Did you ask Joe?"

'Bella,' planted her feet, her back toward his windows now as she conversed with the neighbor. "He said Wednesday." She wore a pink dress and the breeze pressed it against her backside. She was round in the way he was always aware of, but never aware of. He'd learned to look past it, to feel for the inside. To be more than the expression of any earthly desire or passion. And the whole time he thought this out he stared right there. She was deliciously curvaceous. She was beautiful.

He wasn't used to it, the relief and terror of who he was now. Free to be this…nothing that was him. To approach a woman…in this foreign state of soul, and to take?

He took another step back, but not in time. Bella turned as if he'd called out to her. She moved her head a little, peering inside. She saw him. They looked at one another. She turned her body toward him. He panicked a little. He pulled his hand free and waved. He heard himself laugh like a goof.

She smiled and laughed in return. "Hey!" she said. He heard her as if the window were open. He broke away first. He stumbled toward the stack of boxes. He opened the first, and there was a cheese grater. What the hell would he ever do with it? He had no interest. None.

He picked it up and looked over his shoulder.

She was gone. He threw the grater back in the box. He wished… No, he didn't. Yes, he did.

There was a knock on his door.


	2. Chapter 2

Devotion 2

Edward hoped, despaired and hoped again, all in the short walk to the door. If it was Bella…what would he say?

He pulled the door before his caller repeated the knock. Bella fell in a little as she'd been leaning on the door, still holding the box.

She nearly dropped the box, and he grabbed it, grabbed her breast some too. She yelped over that, but she laughed, and he said, "Oh…sorry." Her breast! Her soft, beautiful…

"God, you're…" she said, eying him with a smile. He was used to it. He learned young to hide behind it. Beauty. They called it fleeting, but his had been a long sentence that had yet to diminish. Few people wanted to move off of it. He had a good face, took a good picture, good bones from his father, good features from his mother. How many times. They projected their lust onto him—men and women. He learned to match the beauty with self-deprecation and they loved him all the more. But inside, he knew he was desired. And he knew it wasn't about him, the real him at all. It was more of their brokeness, their endless, crushing human need. His mentor told him his looks had survived the fall. Edward hated to look in the mirror. The beauty was the only thing that had crawled forward and he couldn't see it at all.

He ended up holding the box as she quickly rubbed her upper arm over her breast and kept looking him over. "Nothing like some of the drunks at Vibe. Especially on Friday night. Payday." She laughed and stuck out her hand. "Bella," she said. "I waitress…well, I'm a bar tender. Not full-fledged yet, but I make a mean cocktail. It's like a science! I'm taking a course. It's like…intense. Now I invent stuff. We've got the La Bella! That's mine. It's really just like an Adios Motherfucker, but I cool it on the 7-Up. I mean, what's a recipe, right? It's variation on variation. You fuck it up just the right way you've got something new."

He woke up a bit then. He'd been listening so intently he forgot to speak. Not that there had been a space for sneaking in a word. And he liked her words better. Even as too much talking annoyed him. But he welcomed it now. Each sound pushed against the space.

Up close, she was stunning. Even the gab did nothing to steal from her appeal. He had seen many beautiful women in his life as they gravitated toward him. But not like this. He wanted to touch her again, the way he knew they had all, all wanted to touch him. Is this what it was like to exploit another human being?

His willingness to not save her but to know her…it was making her unbearably attractive. She flipped her hair around a little. She had a unique smell. No perfume. No soapy something. She was clean and dirty. The dirt was the soul thing, the bold thing. Her history was thick with smoke and…pain?

"Dude. Are you hearing me?"

"I'm sorry?" he said again.

"What's your name?" He realized she repeated. He had to snap out of it. He feared she would leave and not come back. He wanted the distraction—her company. That's all it was. Part of his new psychosis.

"I'm Edward. Um…unemployeed. Currently," he said.

"Oh yeah? That sucks," she said. "Alice was right about you," she said walking past him. "You're a hottie. But mature?"

He laughed a little, hoping it would make him less weird. "Thanks?"

"She stopped in front of the window. It threw her into silhouette for a moment. The line of her was hypnotic. Slight as she was, she filled the room. He fought a surge of emotion. Gratitude. When she left, the walls would disintegrate, and the building would swallow him. She must never leave. The word _forsake_ was in his mind. She mustn't forsake him.

He nearly laughed, like a madman, listening to his thoughts. What if she read his mind? She'd run out of here.

"I dated the guy who lived here before. I know every inch of this place. Yeah, every inch of him, too. Regretfully. Left in the dead of night. Behind on his rent. Owed me forty bucks. The freak." Now the light filtered through her dress and he studied her hips, legs. And he caught himself, looked up, her eyes. She watched him.

"Dude," she said. Laughed again. Why wasn't she running out of here?

Wow. He shook his head a little to keep up. "That's a…" He didn't want to say because he had to think about it. She'd slept with the guy, here? She'd been sexually active here. These walls. He didn't like it. He liked it. It was sick. And wrong. And he couldn't live in it. He couldn't leave it. Why did she give herself away? Why would he take her and her money and run? She didn't care for herself. So no one else did. Human ignorance. He didn't care. He didn't care.

"Tell me about it. Yeah, your toilet don't flush half the time. And there's no heat in the bedroom. Unless you make your own. Edward," she laughed, approaching him and reminding him he still held the box. She pulled it from his dead hands.

"So Alice is having a fit. I should ask you to supper, she says. Taco Tuesday. We're on the third floor. 3B. You like spicy?" She settled the box under her breasts. Her soft breasts. He'd felt the left one. It was plump as the melon it kind of rested against.

"I…ah…you don't have to... What time?" he dragged his eyes to hers. He felt very little self-control and no cool whatsoever. Right now? He thought he might cry. He did that now. Tears from two decades breaking loose, spilling out inappropriately.

"Five. I have to work after. We're the welcome wagon," she laughed, bringing up a knee to balance the box and rummage quickly. She produced a cheap bottle of red wine. "I've got this! It's shit, like drinking the good old days!"

Wine. The feel of the thinly rimmed cup against his lips, tongue. The smooth swallow at seven in the morning. The nausea after.

"Yeah. Thanks," he said, and she was gone and he closed the door and leaned his head there, right above the dangling chain that would hold him in. If there was not hope of more, he could die now. This was true diminishment, this now he had sought like the highest goal.

She was the basement of his ambition, and in his despair, she would do. It was an evil thought. But true.

"Bella," he whispered. Then he did cry.


	3. Chapter 3

Devotion 3

For Edward, two things stood out when considering the psychology of wearing a uniform. Two things more than the stiff and the flap.

One, the sense of belonging. So yes, an external expression of identity. Secondly, the attempt to erase one's individuality.

As five pm approached, Edward decided not to change for dinner with Bella and Alice. When he'd met Bella earlier, he'd worn jeans and a white shirt. Was this his uniform now? And what group did that put him in?

He looked in the mirror, felt a new kind of conflict. He ran his fingers through his hair. She had liked what she'd seen. There was no shyness about expressing it, but her livelihood would have encouraged that kind of confidence. That and a lack of raising? He grinned at himself, but it was bizarre with that look in his eyes.

The very act of coming on strong could be a wall. She played offense.

"I knew every inch of him," she'd said.

It conjured up so many images. Bella naked, curved, sensuous, crawling over this sprawled man spread out for her perusal.

Edward stood in the doorway to the large bedroom. He looked up at the ceiling. New paint. A thin white coat. He could see marks from the roller. Beneath that paint the plaster eyes. Plaster eyes, like the ones he'd beseeched. Useless witnesses…

Should he take something to 3B? What did he have? A box of household from Esme. Oh, maybe a corkscrew? He dug around and yes. Odd his mother would include this. He had to laugh.

That was it. Three minutes to get to 3. _We're in 3B. We're_. She and a roommate. Or a partner? He shouldn't assume about Alice. He went outside, then inside again, the center doors Shaniqua had used. His hallway was connected, but outside, they could see him coming if they were looking.

He went lightly up the stairs, even though he wanted to turn around. Go back to the apartment. But no comfort there, just himself. There was nothing for him. Anywhere.

He found the door easily, and it opened as he was poised to knock.

Bella. Dressed for work? White t-shirt, Vibe in black letters. Black bra straps showing, and the rest of the bra visible under the shirt. Short. Shorts. Beautiful skin. Everywhere.

He held out the corkscrew.

Bella took it like a bouquet, held it against her heart. "Aw. Alice look! A screw from Edward!"

She moved, and Edward saw two things. Alice. A thin, dark woman. Thirties. In a wheelchair.

And Shaniqua. Of course, this was that apartment. The one Bella had yelled up to when he'd first seen her. Bella lived with them.

"Come in," Bella moved back, nodded her head.

"Hi," he said.

"Yeah, that's Alice and Shanni," Bella said, moving to the small strip of counter and working the screw into the cork on that cheap bottle of wine.

"Ladies," Edward said, very soberly.

"What's your last name?" Alice said. She wasn't smiling.

"McCarty," Edward said softly.

"I'll be looking that up," Alice said like she was mad at him. "Anything funny comes up I'll be letting the super know. Not that he'll do anything, but I'll make sure your ass is out of here."

"Shut it, Alice!" Bella rounded on her, loud and angry.

"Don't think that shitty elevator will hold me back," Alice went on.

"Sometimes it works, sometimes it don't," Bella said low, whipping the lid off a pot of…sauce and stirring.

"Shaniqua can't stay cooped up in here, and that courtyard is all she's got. Don't think my eye ain't on her. On you, Mister," Alice continued.

"Did ah…did I interrupt something?" Edward said.

"No!" Bella said quickly, slamming the lid on the pot and salting a pot of water on the other burner. "She's got no freakin' manners!" she shouted at Alice, dusting her hands on her thighs.

Alice quickly turned the wheels on her chair almost crashing into Bella's legs. "You talking manners? Asking him without asking me!"

"Hey…I'm gonna…" Edward pointed at the door. Obviously the "Alice wants you to come to supper," was baloney.

"You ain't going anywhere!" Bella yelled grabbing onto Edward's arm. "She's gonna go to her room."

"You sending me to bed?" Alice asked outraged. "You and what army, bitch!"

"Oh…you are lucky you're in that chair," Bella said loudly.

"Come on. That never stopped you before!" Alice yelled.

Edward felt a tug on his free hand. Shaniqua had taken it in her two small ones. "Want to see my room?"

"Yes, honey. Show Edward your room," Bella said releasing him to flap her hand at Alice. She turned back to the stove.

"Take the creep in your room, honey. Sure. Take him right in," Alice was disgusted and she rolled back to the window. "Touch her once!" she yelled, finger high in the air. She still would not look at him.

Shaniqua pulled on his hand. He looked helplessly to Bella.

"Go on," Bella said.

"But her mother..," Edward said pointing toward Alice

"What you mean? Shaniqua is mine," Bella said. Then she turned up the flame under the water and popped a lid on the pan.

"Come on," Shaniqua said.


	4. Chapter 4

Devotion 4

Edward was back in his flat in twenty minutes. He hadn't eaten the spaghetti. He'd gone into Shaniqua's room and looked at her trolls, her sparkly shoes, the bracelets she made with the help of Aunt Alice, her vacation Bible school cross made out of Popsicle sticks and twine.

Sisters. He knew how that could go. Women could be hard on one another. These two were vicious. Shaniqua was a source of discord. Maybe jealousy. And he presented a threat and reached into their fear and history by standing in the room, invading their space. He was a clear pervert far as Alice was concerned. Old wounds, and fresh wounds. Funny, he was more in sympathy with Alice. She should be suspicious. Bella was too open.

 _I knew every inch of him_.

Edward had a theory. The guy that was in this flat before him had provided Bella a refuge. An escape from 3B. It was just a guess.

Shaniqua was hers. She must have had her young. Alice seemed close to the girl. Her watchdog. Shaniqua hardly noticed their arguing. Already, it was normal to the child? Seemed so. What had it been like for her, Bella holing up with the man in his apartment. The courtyard was all she had, Alice had said. Had they watched from outside, Shaniqua in the courtyard, Alice in the third story window? Did Alice hate Edward because the other guy was abusive? A pedophile? Had Bella let in a pedophile? Yeah. He got Alice.

His mind wanted a problem to work but he lacked the initiative to work it.

Bella was a walking disaster.

Speaking of, he saw her crossing the courtyard for work. He turned to the boxes again lest she think he was spying but he knew she was passing his windows now. He knew…

A knock on his door. He crossed without hesitation.

She stood there holding a plate covered in a bread wrapper.

"Oh…you shouldn't have..," he said.

"You didn't eat! You snuck out like that? Seriously?" she said.

She was mad.

When he'd finished looking at Shanni's treasures they were still arguing. Bella held onto the arms of Alice's chair, her nose two inches from her sister's. He left.

"Look," she said. She shoved the plate at him and he took it. "Look. We fight like that...it's the south side coming out. You know? We ah…we don't get along. She blames me…for her life. And I…blame her for mine. So what are you gonna do?"

"You don't have to…"

"She said some stuff up there…her mouth just goes sometimes. I can't shut her up! She gets that thing going in her mind, you know? Now it's pedophiles. The building could be full of them. We don't know you. She didn't used to be this way. Her world is like…it's small, you know?"

"Why didn't you take this apartment? Ground floor…"

"You think I've got the extra five hundred for ground floor?" she threw her hair over her shoulder and Edward tried not to stare, but he did. He looked her up and down. Behind a bar she'd be trapped under so many staring eyes. She had everything they wanted. Perfect.

"You hearing me?"

"Yes," he said.

"Edward. Come on. She said we didn't have food before grocery day. Things like that. We have food, all right? My kid has food."

"She's a great kid," he said softly. He hadn't heard Alice say anything about food. He'd tried to listen to Shanni. He'd tried to wrap it up and get out. But the little girl had gotten to him. So many things had flooded him there. In the room she shared with her mother.

Bella.

"You eat that before it's cold. Some welcome wagon, huh?"

"Thanks." He was out of words.

"Hey. What gives with you? You're like…really sad," she said. "I don't have any time, but I know how to cheer it up a little in there. Like I could give you tips or something. Marvin had this place looking really nice."

"I'm a..," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. She grabbed at the plate because he'd forgotten to hold it straight and nearly dumped it.

"What gives with you?" she said, her fingers tight around his wrist. She wanted to get personal? Man, she was all over. If she looked too close, like now, he'd cut this off so fast.

"You better get going," he said. "You don't want to be late."

They stared at one another for a beat. "How do you know? Maybe I want to be late. Do I need you to tell me, Edward? Think about it." She was smiling, but she was serious, too.

She was a fighter. And he had no need to play defense. Drama queen.

"I'm not…you don't have to worry about Shanni. I would never…I'm clean."

"Clean? You recovered?"

"No. No. I meant…no record. Not a pedophile. You can tell Alice. I'll keep to myself. I…won't trouble the waters."

She stared again. "Can I be blunt?" She didn't wait for an answer. He didn't think she could be anything else anyway. "You have a fineness about you. Maybe it's a stick up your ass, no offense. I don't have it figured out. But I see all types. And I've seen something like you but never something like you, either. I'm not going to lie. I come home, I'm beat. But sometimes…a little something to settle me down…you know? I could knock. And that's it. We don't need to talk about it. Yes or no?"

"Drugs?" he said stupidly. It made immediate sense under the circumstances, that she'd want to do drugs over offering her body. But he already knew, that's exactly what she offered.

"Sex, Edward." She held his stare. No problem and no shame.

"I…look, Bella…"

"You look a minute. I'm a very warm person. Very warm. But I start it with some of the guys at Vibe and it gets ugly. I've done that, some idiot sitting at the bar thinking we're…married or something. Fights. I lose my job. No thanks.

"I want something quiet. On the side. They don't know about it. I'm good in the sack, Edward. I know my way around. I'll put a smile on that sad mug of yours." She didn't laugh. She meant this.

He had to laugh so he could breathe. "Wow. You don't even know me."

"Hey, don't judge. Your parts work?"

"What?"

"Your parts work? You clean…there? I am. I get tested."

He laughed again. "I'm clean," he said, then regretted it. "I mean…"

"So clean," she laughed. "Everything is clean."

"Bella…go to work. You've had a…you're stressed. And a…thanks for the food."

"You offended? I know what you're thinking. You want to pretend you're put out. I can tell when a man looks at me. You want sex."

"What?"

"You want sex. It's normal, right? I mean…we look good together. I'm attracted to you. Right off."

He took in a breath. "Okay. Enough. I'll ah…get your dish back."

"You pissed off? Just think about it," she said moving her hand along her side, like showing the goods he'd been oggling all day. "I gotta admit, I don't usually have to work this hard."

"Goodnight, Bella." He eased the door closed then. Something hit it, hard, low enough to be a kick. He walked away, went to the kitchen and set down the plate. He peeled the wrapper off. It had been slit along the side to make a flat. Poor man's Saran Wrap. It got to him. His hands were shaking. Everytime he wanted to let them go…

He hurried to the window and watched Bella walk to her car. She drove a beat up Focus. The car looked thirsty. Figured.

They were struggling. Alice was trapped on 3 and the child played in the courtyard and Bella worked the bar and asked a stranger if she could whore for some diversion? He didn't want to know this. Not any of it. But then, it was yanking him into another world…no the same world. Only he was different here. He wasn't anchored to anything. He wasn't safe.

He was barely aware of shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.

This was their argument, then. Between Alice and Bella. This was what they fought about.

Guys like he was now.

What was he now?


	5. Chapter 5

Devotion 5

Edward was asleep on a piece of cardboard made flat. It was the box his mother had sent, the household goods. He had dumped those in the kitchen on the table good old Marvin must have left behind and flattened the box for his bed.

The floor hadn't been swept, and he hated grit. So he'd laid on the box, his other pair of pants rolled beneath his head, to soften his dreams. He tried to sleep. But he listened. For Bella.

A couple of times he heard car doors slam, and he got up to look, the light from the streetlamp showing the grime on his windows, but he could see well enough, and it wasn't likely he'd hang sheets. Not anytime soon.

Finally, he drifted, but he awoke with a start. His breath was short, his shoulder hurt from sleeping on his side. He got up, stumbled, hurried to the windows. She was already standing out there, hands on her hips. It had to be past three. Maybe four.

Bella glared at him. He realized he wanted to see her, but she looked so surreal…standing that way in the eerie yellow light. It was frightening.

He turned away and went to the door and opened it, expecting her to show up. And she did.

"You were waiting for me," she said. She looked tired. Still beautiful, but there were blue shadows under her eyes. Her ponytail was high on her head. There was a couple of stains on her shirt. She smelled like beer, and she had been drinking.

"You work nights," he said. What he meant was _, I had no idea you worked all night_. Then he thought she might have been having 'a date.' Especially since he'd been noncommittal toward her offer. Did she think he wanted to renegotiate?

"I had clean-up. And it's damn hard work, Edward! And you made me feel like a piece of shit, and I'm not a piece of shit."

He looked down the hall. The building was J-shaped, and he was the first apartment on the inside of the hook. First one to hug the courtyard. She was too loud. The loudest one here next to Alice.

She'd accused him of making her feel bad. Edward had learned to apologize quickly, but only if it was beneficial to his accuser. With her, he was rethinking this, even through the fog of deep sleep and a nightmare that was still screaming something in his head. "I never…"

"Are you gay?"

He had to laugh at the absurdity. Not the idea of being attracted to his sex, but that it had come up more than once. Usually when he was being propositioned. "Not…gay," he said.

"You have a woman tucked up somewhere?" she leaned forward and looked past him. The apartment was dark except for the light spilling across the floor from the courtyard.

He didn't step back to make intrusion easy, so she put her arm across his chest and pushed him back. He went along. With Bella so near Edward was very aware she had an effect. That was the DNA of loneliness. It was also her well-honed power. Sexuality was her armor.

"I could tell right off you were single," she said proudly. Man, she smelled of alcohol. She saw the box on the floor then. It brought her to silence for a moment. He resented that. Now she would try to hold him to account. He also felt a surprising eagerness to shut her down.

"You're…correct," he said to stroke her fragile ego. "Single as a monk."

"As a monk?" she turned toward him. "See, that ain't right. I know where you are on the food chain, Edward. Guy like you…you should never be alone. So what is it? We're out of healthy options. You in some kind of trouble?"

"No." Now he wanted her out. Mostly.

"High and mighty," she said.

"Not high. Not mighty," he sighed. "I ah…hope we can…"

"Shut up, Edward. Don't say it. We cannot be friends." She pulled the band that held her hair, and it spilled over her shoulders. "You insult me…and I don't know what your thing is. That's not friendly, dude."

"Bella," he looked quickly at the clock he'd plugged into the living room outlet near his box, " it's four-thirty in the morning."

"I love an early morning f..." Her hands went to the button on the tiny shorts.

He covered the expanse of dusty floor, his bare feet pounding like a drum. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the door. She tried to fight him off, hit at his arm. "Get your hands off me."

He let her go then. Pulled the door and stood there. He wouldn't look at her, but he waited. The neighbors upstairs thudded something on their floor. People were waking up.

"You know…" she began.

"Goodnight, Bella," he said firmly, eyes still straight ahead.

"Fuck you," she whispered as she left.

He closed the door. He even did up the chain. For the second time that day he leaned his head there and listened for her retreat. He realized she'd already left. So he should be able to breathe. But the smell she'd brought in, that's all there was.


	6. Chapter 6

Devotion 6

For the next two weeks, Bella crossed Edward's line of vision. He tried not to pay attention, but he also didn't distract himself with the things that needed doing to set up a life. He wasn't interested in that—the set-up. The life.

He didn't have television and barely listened to the news. He had a phone. A new one he had gotten talked into on the upgrade, mostly because the kid working there was so eager to sell so Edward let him lead, and he just nodded _yes_. And now he had music. That and the weather report. He listened to music when he could bear it and turned it off when he couldn't. The windows were all he needed. He looked out of them most of the day it seemed, until even that was too much brown and gray stone, people coming and going, and Bella.

For the first couple of days after his…rejection of her offer, she hurried past, middle finger in the air, never looking his way, but of course, it was for him. Now she ignored him completely.

Every day it was the same. Shanni played in the courtyard, and Alice yelled down. "Lunch." "Supper."

Edward would remember to eat then. He would go to the kitchen, get the bread and the peanut butter. His hair grew long and shaggy. He didn't have a shower, but he took baths sometimes. He washed his clothes in his bathwater, sometimes they would soak for days.

He called his brother. It was a new number. "I'm fine," he would say. "Tell everyone I'm fine."

His brother had a strong personality. They shared a mother.

"You need to call Mom, bro," Emmett said the last time Edward had called.

"I will," Edward said. Just like always. But he didn't call. "Don't give her this number," he reminded Emmett yet again.

"Edward, come on. You're not getting better."

"I don't need to get better," Edward said. "This is who I am."

"It's fucked, dude. You're living in a tenement."

"I told you that," he said, possessive of the scant facts he chose to dole out. "It doesn't matter."

"You want to stop off and beat yourself up for a while, fine. But man, you can't make a life there," Emmett said, exasperated like always.

So it went like that. Never better. Often worse. Edward didn't know why he called. If he let Emmett go, that was the last station connected to the mothership.

It was like that on a hot Tuesday afternoon. Edward sat at the cheap table in his kitchen, the stuff his mother had sent still piled on the small space of Formica beside the chipped sink. He was thinking about Emmett and his ambition. His brother had always been so driven to prove he had what it took. Edward knew they came from the same womb, but whatever McCarty had put into Emmett, Edward's father had deposited a whole other set of rules in the son he'd never met. And all of them were cloaked in shame.

Someone had the ballgame on in the courtyard. A home run and the crowd roared.

Edward got up and walked to the window. Shanni and another little girl were playing with the hose. Alice had just yelled down they should shut off the water. Two boys came along. Twelve or so. That age. They grabbed the hose from Shanni and let her have a blast of water in the face. She yelled and started to swing. Her friend tried to yank the hose away from the boy and got knocked on her backside. She got up and ran into the building. But Shanni hung on, to the hose, and Alice screamed from the window. "Get away from those girls you little fuckers!"

Edward's windows were open. He wrapped on the glass with his knuckle and got the hose turned on his screen for his trouble. He put on his shirt and went into the hall. By the time he got outside the boys were gone. Shanni had turned off the water, and she was pulling her shirt away from body. "I hate those boys," she said to Edward. "Boys are so dumb."

Edward wasn't going to argue.

"Shanni get up here!" Alice yelled. "Get up here!"

For heaven's sake, what did Alice think he was going to do? He was just seeing if the child was all right. That's all.

"Now!" Alice yelled, sounding more frantic than usual.

"Hi Uncle Jasper," Shanni said, looking past Edward.

Edward turned enough to see the guy who had sneaked up on them. Jasper looked like any other sad story off the streets. He was tatted up. Some prison ink. Long blond ponytail. Leather vest Edward could smell from four feet away.

Alice's voice was booming now. She was yelling out doomsday to "Uncle Jasper."

Jasper ignored Edward and looked up at Alice. "Just came to say hello, Allie."

"I got that OP," Alice yelled, along with expletives and various warnings of what she'd do if Uncle didn't get the heck out of Dodge.

Shanni kept watching Jasper, her face in deep study. She'd ignored her aunt's directives for running upstairs. Apparently, the kid didn't fear her like Alice thought she should.

"How's your aunt doing, kid?" Uncle said.

"She's just going up," Edward said. He didn't think about it. He'd just inserted himself in the situation like the old him would do. If he had a kid, yeah this guy would not get access.

"Who the fuck are you?" Uncle asked.

By this time Alice was screaming out so many threats, it was hard to hear.

"Nobody, man," Edward said. "Just want some peace and quiet, and Alice wants the girl to go up."

Jasper looked at Shanni again. He pursed his lips and nodded. "You tell Aunt Alice I'll be around. You do that for me, kid?"

"I don't know," Shanni said, her voice more thin than usual.

"Okay!" Jasper yelled up to the crazy woman in 3B. "Calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself!" Uncle said.

He dodged the box of salt that landed near his feet, and close enough to Edward and Shanni that Edward took her by the hand and quickly walked her into the building.

"Who the fuck are you?" Jasper called after him like he had no right to be walking the girl. But Edward didn't stop, and Shanni raced to keep up. He knew he should slow, but geez Louise, Alice had no call to endanger Shanni by dropping missiles from a third story window.


	7. Chapter 7

Devotion 7

Alice waited at the door of 3B. "You're lucky you brought her here, Mister. If you'd of taken her to your apartment, you'd be dead."

She backed the chair off so Shanni could enter and Edward saw the pistol in Alice's lap.

If he was lucky about anything, it was that she'd pelted them with salt instead of bullets.

"You have a permit for that?" he said, this other self pushing through the apathy enough to be spontaneous.

"What the hell is that to you?" Alice said. Her face was a mask of red blotches. Not from tears. From rage.

Uncle had it right when he'd told her to calm down. In theory. Saying that had only caused things to escalate.

"Next time this guy violates your OP, call the police. That's the idea, right?"

She came back at him, all anger, making no sense. He spoke over her, and that took a force in his voice he hadn't used in awhile. "Call the police! And the next time you decide to do your own little terrorism routine on me or some innocent you are supposed to be an adult over, I'll call the police!"

The sudden silence coming from Alice's open mouth was defeaning. "Are we clear?" Edward added, vaguely remembering this side of his voice.

"Don't you EVER call the cops on me," Alice threatened, her hands on the wheels, straightening her chair like she was coming after him.

"Oh yeah? What in the fuck do I have to lose?" he said, a weird smile plastering itself on his features. He felt that weird smile.

It was like he'd thrown a box of salt in her face.

He walked away, the weird smile still in place. He had never, in his life, used the F-word when talking to another human being. For a few minutes, his old self had emerged. He was alive and well in there. But it had appeared—this old self—under the new skin of who he was now. And it felt…he didn't know yet. But it would definitely give him something to think about for the next few days.


	8. Chapter 8

Devotion 8

It blew Edward's mind when he saw Bella's last name on her mailbox. Swan.

She was hardly a Swan. Oh, in looks maybe. Nothing wrong there. But inside. No. No. It was unkind what he was thinking. But not Swan.

Well, it had gotten him out of the apartment. If that was a good thing. Amazon could keep him in peanut butter indefinitely, but now that he'd emerged to fight with Alice, he felt more apt to go to the store.

He didn't own a car. So he walked, then he took a bus. He got off in a couple of blocks and went into the hardware store. It was a small place, mom, and pop. Wall to wall goods some of which hadn't moved in a long while.

He asked the Boomer behind the counter for the item he hoped to purchase.

They went back and forth, and he paid for the thing and tucked it under his arm and walked the whole way back to the building. He knew she'd be coming. The Swan. He figured maybe three or four. Four if she'd been drinking.

That reminded him. He needed a meeting.


	9. Chapter 9

Devotion 9

Two in the morning it was going strong in the yard. Edward waited for the neighbors to complain but no one did. It was a group of men, a couple of women, one of the apartments across from him. Window open and people in and out. Barbecue, music, dancing. They were okay, keeping it down, loud sometimes, but just for a while.

About two a.m. here she came. He hadn't slept because he was waiting. For what, he didn't know.

Two was early for Bella Swan. She was usually later. She carried a bag. Looked like groceries. The group hailed her, and she went into the fold. She knew how to work it. Had them laughing in no time. One especially. Khakis. Undershirt. Bottle held against his flat stomach. He was digging her right off. Dancing. She went right to it. Moving her hips like a pro. It got louder. Undershirt was close to her. Got his arms around her. She was flighty. Moving all over. Ha-ha. "I've got groceries!" he heard her say. Undershirt didn't want to let her go. He followed her to the double doors. She went up alone, and the dude was moving his neck and complaining to the others. Yeah. She left them bleeding a little.

Edward wiped over his mouth. He was thirsty. He was a peeper. He wasn't looking in though. He was looking out. Was that more respectable? He laughed out loud, and it made the room feel cavernous.

He saw a light go on in 3B. The kitchen. She'd be putting the food away now. Probably moving her hips like she had in the yard. No, more subtly. He went back to his own kitchen, settled in the chair. And waited.


	10. Chapter 10

Devotion 10

It took fifteen minutes for Bella to knock on Edward's door. It was fierce knocking. Not fit for three a.m. or p.m.

He put on his shirt and undid the chain and opened up.

She was livid. He saw that.

"You've gone too far. One word from me and those guys out there will kick your ass," she said.

"I saw the gun," he said. That didn't take her wind, but it calmed her down for a beat or two.

"So? Everyone in this building owns a gun."

"Not everyone," he said, as interested in his own words as she seemed to be.

He started to button his shirt, and her eyes went to his hands.

"You upset her. You upset Alice," she said, her eyes so dark with emotion.

"Yeah." He stood back. "Come in," he said.

She hesitated. "Why?"

"My windows are open. You can call for your boys if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"I'm not afraid of you," she said breezing past him. He closed his eyes for a moment and quietly closed the door.

She walked a few feet in and turned, arms folded. "You're giving us shit, Edward. I'm not going to take it. You had no right to go up to my apartment. You know I don't want you there. And she sure as hell don't. This is my kid, Edward. My kid!"

"I have something..," he said.

"What?" she said, her hands going to her hips. "Are you hearing me?"

Unfortunately, he heard her. She made no sense but he wasn't trying to straighten that out.

He went in the kitchen and retrieved the bag. She waited in the living room. In seconds he was handing her the purchase from the hardware store.

"What's this shit?" she said taking the bag with both hands. She quickly pulled the box from the bag letting the plastic sack drift to the floor. She opened the box and looked inside, then read the box and looked at him. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"It's a lock-box. For the gun. It's a cheap one, but it could save a life," he said.

She stared at him, then at the box, and at him once more. Then she thrust the box toward him. "Take this. I don't need this. And if I do, I'll buy it."

Edward put his hands up in surrender. "Take it."

"Shanni knows not to touch the gun. I'm not an idiot, Edward. Why do you keep making me feel like such a piece of shit?"

He thought about her lovely mouth. Her lips were guileless when they were closed. But now that he knew her…enough, he was amazed at how they twisted when she yelled at him.

"Shanni is a good kid. I see that. But what about the other kids? This place is full of little idiots who could steal that gun."

"They'd have to get past Alice!"

"It happens all the time. I've seen it. It puts Shanni in peril. You raised your kid to know better, good for you. But that girl she plays with, those punks that sprayed the hose in her face? Who is raising them? Lock up the damn gun. Please."

She was chewing her lip, her eyes burning into him. "You want to start with all the things around here that could hurt Shanni? You don't have enough ideas to keep my baby safe. But I do. I've kept her safe for eight years, Edward. And Alice would die for my girl."

"This is a no-brainer, Bella."

"You saying I'm stupid, Edward? Again?"

"No. You're taking it wrong. I'm saying to take the box. It's a gift."

"I don't want no fucking gift from you," she said. Wow. What had he really done to be the object of this much hate?

"Look…Bella. You're right. You're right. There's a lot out there. Bad stuff. But this is one thing. One thing that could happen. I've seen it."

"You keep saying you've seen it. You a doctor or something?" The anger had leeched an infinitesimal crumb. He was a pro at feeling this stuff.

"No. But I've been around death. Accidents."

"So I'm supposed to calm your fears too? Like I don't have enough to take care of?"

"No. It's for Shanni."

"And why are you even thinking on my daughter again?"

"I'm thinking on the gun. And Alice. She threw a box out the window. It could have hit Shanni."

"Alice would…"

He spoke over her, "It didn't. But it wasn't a good decision."

"Are you threatening us?" Rage again.

"No. I'm just telling you what happened. As the parent. You're the parent. I'd want to know if she was…mine."

"She's not yours. Creep."

"No. She's not mine. But Alice has a temper…" He let that hang.

"What was she supposed to do? Ever since Jasper got out, he won't leave her alone!"

He wasn't up to this conversation. All the new feeling, fragile though it was, that had opened in him since standing up to Alice ran right out of the soles of his feet. He couldn't do this with Bella. He was digging in so deep. In the morning…the other morning where people actually functioned, he'd look for another place.

"You call DCFS or something on me I swear to God, Edward…"

"No. That's not what this is. It's okay. Do what you want. I tried." He walked toward her to usher her out.

"You mean it? You're not going to call?"

"No."

"Alice is…I told you she can get going. I said that if you'll remember."

"Yeah. You said that," he said, so tired. He put his fingertips lightly on her arm, to turn her toward the door.

"Listen. I know…the gun shouldn't be out. I get it. But…Alice would never lock it up. It's the only thing that makes her feel safe. You know?"

She was coming down off that high red mountain she'd come in on. But he didn't care.

"Are you listening? The gun is holstered on her leg. All day. All night."

"What?" he said, all attempts to push her out on hold.

"That's why…no one will steal it. She wears it all the time."

"And this comforts you?" he said, his head moving side to side.

"No. I mean…in a way. Alice won't hesitate to keep Shanni safe."

That's if she could survive Aunt Alice. But he didn't say that now. He was out of words again. Drained.

Bella looked around. "Marvin was a good guy. I miss him, you know? He ah…he was a watcher, too."

A watcher? Was it becoming his MO?

"You haven't asked about Jasper," she said.

He got moving then. No more. He gently pushed her toward the door.

"And I won't ask about him. Goodnight, Bella." He opened the door, and she stumbled a little.

"I'm trying to give you this if you'd hold on a minute. You're rushing me like I'm the last guy who won't leave the bar."

"Yeah." He took the box from her.

She nodded. Her expression…behind all the twisted mess of Bella Swan was a dangerously attractive woman. It wasn't something she wouldn't squander. She didn't know how to use it, and it probably had gotten her in more trouble than not. But it wasn't his problem.

She wasn't his problem. Alice wasn't. Shanni wasn't.

He closed the door while she was saying thanks.

Whatever.


	11. Chapter 11

Devotion 11

Edward went far away to buy the wine. That was it. Farther than the hardware store.

He walked it home, the single bottle wearing the brown paper shroud. Like sackcloth.

It was one bottle, and he bought it at the grocery. Along with a loaf of bread.

He knew what he was doing. That was his control.

If he kept it like this…hard to get to…he wouldn't get carried away. Hey, who was he hurting?

 _The sins we are least comfortable talking about are the ones we're still committing_. Yes, his head was full of this crap.

He bought the easy open twist off cap, and it cracked like bones getting stretched while you waited in bed for your lover.

He guessed. He thought in sexual imagery now? He laughed. He passed a woman, selling it. His heart wrenched because that was the trained response, but something darker wondered how far in he'd have to be to get sucked off in an alley. A woman on her knees, pretending to worship him by drawing on the nectar of his penis. He'd die of grief then.

Many broken souls didn't know…there was a safe shelf against the animalistic sexual activity the culture gagged them with on a daily basis. A higher foothold where one might find purchase. But it took your whole life to stay balanced. It took more than you had inside, more than the animal drive to get your genitals stroked by someone else's need for the same fleeting…stroking.

The animal ruled Bella's need. That was it. Her dark, unthinkable, something was different from his. She would laugh at what he considered the worst he could suffer. He'd have to build so much of his story to try and make her understand. There was nothing there she would recognize from her own experience. She had never been protected, that was his guess, and he, on the other hand, had been walled in by layers of applause until he couldn't breathe.

He could unpack his own fallenness with a stern intellectualism. That's how he stayed in check. But she would never be captured in a similar philosophy. Her fence was made of things he'd stepped over, even unaware they existed.

The first swallow from the cheap bottle was great. And shit. He knew the big three when it came to the vine: oak, time, terroir. This batch never had a chance. It was screwed on the vine—the wrong plants, the wrong soil, no destiny to be great.

And that was all of life and everything in it. Throw in eternity and wine explained all of it—how some of the plants that produced the fruit had been bred for perfection, and they had nothing, nothing to do with their own good future. While others…it was never going to happen. But in the end, all of them trampled underfoot, squeezed into something to be consumed.

He took a deep breath and leaned against a building and took another swallow. A longer one and oh God, it was horrible and…great.

This was survival wine.

Speaking of. Someone tapped his arm and he knew it was the whore. She'd followed him.

"No thanks," he said.

"I have a drink?" she said. He closed his eyes and laughed a little. He wasn't that far gone. He didn't even drink after his mother. He dug in his pocket though. A wad of cash. The change from one of Emmett's twenties. He shoved it into her waiting hand.

"You giving it away?" she said.

He laughed because…well, she wasn't giving it away in the truest sense. "It's all I have," he said, as much to any watching pimp as to her. He gave her the bread, too.

"What about that drink?" she said.

Edward smiled at her and shoved off the wall and continued on.

By the time he was near the apartment, he dropped the still half full bottle in a trashcan.

He stared into the can. He could retrieve it. He had these ridiculous long arms.

It stank, and he'd still do it—reach into the blackness for that bottle.

How many lifetimes would it take a man to get it anywhere near right? Five? A hundred? More messes. More bodies piling up behind him.

He scrubbed his face, his heavy stubble.

He was scared. Offering her the gun case had moved something in him, and all there was now was the uncertainty. He'd hoped to get here slowly. Along with the discovery of fear he'd hoped to have learned strong reason against it, but trying to offer the help…to Bella…had unraveled the last illusion inside himself that he was put on this earth to do good. To be something more than hopeless. But his strength was gone. His motivation was completely fucked. His understanding of the steps to a good goal made no sense. The straight paths that had ruled him, the paths he'd called others to were deceptively crooked after all. Inside he was a ruin. And nothing and no one could save him.

He would not go down in rage. He was drifting. He was drifting. Getting smaller. Smaller. Until one day soon, he'd disappear.

He reached into the black mouth of the can, and the bottle came into his hand.


	12. Chapter 12

Devotion 12

Two weeks later, Edward awoke to the sounds of an argument going on outside his window. The voices were so close it was like they were in the room with him. He rolled over and stared at the old brass light fixture in the ceiling. Was that a cobweb all the way from the light to the corner of the room? How long had that been there?

He sat up. Too quickly. He looked around. The voices continued, but the state of the room... Was this real? Was this his life?

Today, he was going to change. But first…what the bloody hell was all this loud..?

"Hey! Shanni! What?" he said.

Shanni and the other one, Victoria, Vickie, were having a heated discussion right there.

"I told you he wasn't dead," Shanni was saying.

"Hey, where'd you get this plant?" Vickie asked him right through his screen like it was a drive through window. He expected Alice to start screaming any minute.

"Girls…what time is it?" he asked pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Time for dopeheads to get they-selves out of bed," Vickie said with a sassy tone.

Shanni made a noise at her like she should shut-up.

"Not a dopehead," Edward said, like 'come on.' He tried to laugh a little but the throb in his head cut it short.

"What you got this sad plant for? You a migrant worker or something?" Vickie said. "You sleeping on the floor, yo."

"This a tomato?" Shanni asked.

Edward pressed closer to the screen and peered at the plant he'd bought at the sidewalk sale for seventy-five cents. It was already sporting a small green globe. "Yep," he said. It was right where he'd set it last night, still in the black plastic pot, dirt like cement. Someone had stubbed their smoke out in it.

"You'll just kill it," Vickie decided.

"Gee, thanks," Edward said. "Well…" he started to move away. His tongue felt like a well-traveled desert road. His neck was so stiff he used his hands to turn his head.

"You depressed or something?" Shanni this time.

He stopped trying to work over his body and stared at the girl. She had her mother's eyes. And mouth.

"I'm fine," he said. "You shouldn't ah…" he motioned to the bare room behind him.

"Put up some curtains, yo," Vickie said and Shanni laughed.

Yeah. He was asking for it.

He went in the kitchen and hoped like hell they would go away.

"Aunt Alice says to put some coffee grounds on it!" Shanni yelled.

Edward stepped back in the room. "What?"

"On the plant. Put some coffee grounds on it. Something for the soil," Shanni said.

"You can't tell some dopehead…" Vickie was saying.

"He's not a dopehead," Shanni argued. "He's just sad."

"Alice said…"

"Shut-up," Shanni said.

Edward went back in the kitchen and put his head under the faucet.

Alice noticed his plant? She had an opinion about it?

He was bent over the sink letting his hair drip into the stained porcelain square.

They were still arguing about him, then their voices drifted.

Fuck Alice. What the hell with this woman. First he's a pedophile, now a dopehead. Why would she care about his plant.

But she did.


	13. Chapter 13

Devotion 13

Later that day Edward brought one of the kitchen chairs outside. He sat it next to his plant. He went inside and got one of the two bottles of water he'd brought home from the grocery. They'd never made it to the fridge, but the old box didn't cool things very well anyway.

He eyed the stack of boxes he'd tossed in the room. They remained in the configuration he'd put them in when he'd moved in. The library table was on its side. He had no memory of why or how.

He hadn't looked at the clock but knew it was the time of afternoon when things started to slow a little. He poured half of his bottle of water on the plant and took a swig from what remained. He couldn't quench his thirst this morning. It went all the way down the tunnel of his throat to his guts.

He set the bottle on the ground, put his ankle on his knee. He quickly scanned the empty courtyard, the windows, the barbecue pit the young couple fired up for friends, the hose circling the spigot, the old lady's fork and spoon chimes. He looked up. All the way up, moving just his eyes. Alice's window. She wasn't there. He slumped a little in the chair, put his head back enough to feel the sun's warmth. His mind slugged about. He thought about his books. One of the boxes. Then he thought about bookstores.

There was an independent bookstore in the small downtown area where he'd once lived. Stacks of inventory and a cat on a cushion. The owner's feline princess. She would leave long white hairs on his black pants. The cat, not the owner. That woman was perfect with her hair like the driver of the Magic School Bus. It was another world, that place, the portal to many other worlds. And pens. So many different kinds of pens. He remembered how they'd splayed…everywhere after the woman was robbed. He'd arrived first on the scene. Just there to get away for a while. This world…

The memory evaporated as he heard Bella's steps. A quick, sure gait.

"Edward?"

One eye open. He looked up. Bella.

She wore the shorts, but he was careful to keep his gaze on her face.

"How's it going?" she said.

Oh. She was talking to him? And with a normal tone. She had her hair rolled into a tall knot that sat atop her head. It was adorable. And comical. Edward imagined himself undoing the knot, and he folded his hands on his lap.

"Some vitamin D, dude?" she said, like the proverbial nosey neighbor. But small talk, he was out of ideas.

"Shanni told me about the plant," Bella said.

When he was still mute, Bella continued, "Glad to see you watered it."

"Yeah," his voice finally kicked in. "They ah…like water."

They both laughed a little. He noticed she looked tired. She got in at 4 a.m.

"Well…I have to get to the store. Take care of it," she motioned toward the plant. "Talk to it," she said.

He smirked a little. "Hey…what store?"

She stopped, hand on hip. "Aldi's."

"Could I…ride along?" He had no idea he was going to ask this. Had he even brushed his teeth?

She stood there, out of words for once.

"No pressure," he said. "I mean…I can walk uptown later."

"No. It's not pressure," she said.

He followed the shorts then, not checking to see if he had his wallet until he was practically to her car.

Inside the vehicle, he breathed slowly to adjust to being near her. It was close in here, of course, but he'd have to put forth more effort than usual. Maybe. He remembered her hands so willingly at her waist, undoing the button. Conjuring that image didn't put him more at ease.

He tried not to cringe when she started the car. It ran rough and loud. He wasn't a mechanic, but better oil would help the knocking in her engine for starters. Did she do maintenance? Was that in her world at all or did she run behind everything trying to squeeze out a little more?

He knew the answer.

Before pulling into the street, she looked at him. She was nervous.

"What?" he said.

"What? Nothing," she said. She pulled from the curb. "I just…the other day…Shanni told me more about it. You ah…were just trying to help. She thought."

"There was no plan," he said, looking out his window, oddly relieved to be pulling away from his apartment in Bella Swan's company.

"I have to go by Vibe. Pick up my check," she said.

"Where's Vibe?" he asked as if he hadn't looked it up on his phone.

She answered that, and he put on his seatbelt.

There wasn't much to say now. Bella seemed content to be quiet for once, and Edward was always comfortable in silence. He didn't particularly approve of her driving. She definitely was prone to road rage, like most disempowered people, he thought, realizing how repulsed she would be if she could read his thoughts.

Fifteen minutes later they pulled up to Vibe. The neon sign was off, but he could see the figure of a girl shaking it in three varied positions. The club was near an underpass. This part of town—vintage, to be more kind. It was a cool dump. Popular for a season, and this was it. It was an old brewery, two brick stories. The building had been a few things, and now this.

"Two brothers scraped the money and bought this place. Two assholes who didn't pay their bills to the wrong people who had loaned them money," she said, also observing the building with him. "Now it belongs to them. The tough guys. And we have law and order, believe me. They don't mess around like Riley and Vic did. I know the building looks like shit in the sunlight. But at night…the lights going, the parking lot jammed and the beat…you can feel it in your feet the minute they hit the asphalt, you know?"

He did know. But it was different for him. It wasn't a palpable beat he used to feel. It was more private than that. But he knew all about anticipation. For her…that beat, that vibe at Vibe? That was the promise of life. He wondered if it ever delivered.

"I won't be long," Bella said quickly moving out of the car. "You want the keys? For the radio?" she leaned in the window extending the keys and the rattly key chain with the big letter 'B.'

"No," he said. He opened his door, looked at her over the roof. "I want to see where you work."

She looked surprised but never thrown. Not her. She grinned. A beautiful smile, really. Lit her up. Maybe lit him a little. "Really?"

"Sure," he said like he was cool.

Bella responded, right off. All in. Up for grabs. He could lead her back into his palm. She'd never left. She was so easy. He almost felt sorry for her as he followed the shorts inside because there was nothing behind whatever it was she perceived him to be.

Inside Vibe was one of those industrial environments you paid for with each drink. Lots of brick and exposed pipes. Also cool. Like him. Rotten and far, far out.

"Bella," big man behind the counter said. But his eyes were on Edward.

"We ain't hiring," Big Man said.

Bella smiled. "It's a friend."

BM leaned over the counter to really eye Edward now.

"Friend?" he said.

Edward nodded.

"You got enough friends up your ass," Big Man said addressing the Swan.

"Not like that," Bella said. "Be nice."

Big Man straightened, went back to a black computer behind the bar. "I'm always nice."

"I forgot my check. Imagine that?" Bella said elbows on the shiny surface.

Edward slid his hands in his pockets. Big Man grinned at Bella. "You know why? You were that trashed."

"I was not," she said.

"Oh yeah. You're always the first. I told you direct deposit. It's enough you got a posse of assholes hanging around. One of these nights, Bella."

Edward's hands came out of the pockets, and he stepped beside Bella.

"I like it in my hand," Bella said. BM looked at her, and they laughed. Maybe she was trying to break the tension? Big Man fished around and came up with the envelope Bella was after. He sauntered over, slapped it on the bar, looked at Edward like he was there to steal it from the wayward girl.

"Don't be late tonight," BM warned raising a green glass to his lips.

"I wasn't late one time last week!" Bella countered, that old pissed off tone apparently also used when talking to her boss.

She grabbed the envelope and grinned at Edward, but her eyes were troubled. More than he wanted to face.

No 'nice meeting you,' between the two men. Edward followed Bella out.

"He's a jerk!" she declared as soon as they were in the parking lot.

What passel of assholes followed Bella? This girl walked a tightrope over a firepit. She was still agitated enough when they got in the car, and he knew how it went if he said the wrong thing, so he stayed quiet.

Until he had to ask. "Do they walk you out at night?" That was a stupid question. It couldn't be anywhere near safe. That guy behind the bar gave off darkness. That's all Edward could think.

"What?" she laughed. "Whatever, Edward. It's safer here than being a cop in this city."

"Okay," he said. He didn't get the comparison. She didn't think things through enough.

"Don't put me down." She pulled around the car in front and sped.

"Slow down," he said before he thought.

"Fuck you," she mumbled. They reached the store that way. She'd pulled in quiet, but so serious, for her.

"Listen," he said. "I'm not against you, Bella. I'm…not anything. But…are you safe working there, that's all. Shanni…"

"Do not hold my daughter up to me. You have no fucking right. You are nothing in my life. I gave you a ride. Let you see where I work to be nice. I don't want your fucking opinions on anything. Loser."

She got out then, and he slowly followed.

"Bella," he called after, "you want me to walk home?"

She turned, the tight bun starting to unravel. She immediately addressed that, managing to shove her keys and phone in her tiny pockets and undo the hair, retwisting it in an angry way that truth be told had his attention.

"I want you..," she started loud, then in uncharacteristic awareness looked around and bun back in place she moved close to him, "I want you to stop being so weak."

Then she moved off, fast, hips side to side. And over her shoulder, "You coming or what?"

After a second's hesitation, Edward followed her inside.


	14. Chapter 14

Devotion 14

Bella put a quarter in the slot to rent the use of a shopping cart. She pushed off stopping at produce. She was looking at tomatoes. Edward couldn't get ahold of the environment. He could only see Bella.

"Excuse me," someone snapped as he'd been blocking an aisle.

He didn't pull his eyes away from Bella, was oblivious to the woman who angrily made her way around him.

Weak? He was weak. But why would she think so? It was the worst thing she could say to him. The very worst. He could say it to himself. Emmett could imply, it was only Emmett. But Bella saying it?

Scenes of his most recent days flipped through his mind. Weak? Because why? She thought—what? He didn't push enough? Didn't assert? Insist?

Was it all about his rejection of her offer? That he hadn't met her on the level she required? She never meant the offer. Not purely. Not in a way he could trust or approve of, certainly not respond to. She was so damaged. So why couldn't he blow this off? Walk home? Look for another place like he'd planned to?

Because he was weak?

He was in the way again. A woman pushed her cart past. One look at his face and she seemed to forgive him. See, that was the problem. People forgave him too easily.

Bella had moved to bananas. She was rummaging. She seemed frustrated now. She looked at him. He was twenty feet away.

"Edward! I thought you had to shop!" She was angry. How comforting it must be for her to cloak everything in whatever emotion presented itself.

He thought of turning and walking out. But his feet moved toward Bella.


	15. Chapter 15

Devotion 15

She had the items in the cart divided. He had no idea what to buy. He wanted everything and nothing. She had given him a lecture about needing vitamins. She had let him know what she thought about his hair. She could shape it up for him. That's if he could stop being an asshole for a few minutes. "What's the matter, Edward? Don't trust me with scissors in my hand?"

He had smirked. He was still very hurt that she had called him weak. She didn't seem to see the need for a conversation after a remark like that. He knew trying to talk to her in any real way made him extremely tired. What was the point?

He dreaded getting back in the car with her. If he avoided making any purchases, he could say _adios_ and walk home. But she put things in the cart for him. Things she felt he needed. It was a growing mound. At least four bags.

"You're here to do your shopping," he said.

She stopped the cart and looked at him. "I'm aware of what I've got to do, Edward."

"Me, too," he said.

"You mean you're aware of what you need to do or what I need to do cause frankly…" She sighed and pushed the cart.

She hadn't lowered her voice. A couple of ladies shot him a look. He didn't smile. It didn't matter.

They got in line to pay, and she put her items on the counter first. She wasn't looking at him it seemed. She'd been avoiding really looking at him the whole time they'd been in here. Well, she did that a lot.

She paid in Food Stamps. After she did that, she shot him a look, defiant. Sore-headed. He wasn't judging her. Much.

She moved off to bag her stuff, and he marveled at the selection he unloaded from the cart. He was now the owner of Charmin, Dial soap, dishwashing liquid, bleach wipes, Bagel Bites, Corn Dogs, Fruit Loops, milk, instant coffee, and a few other things.

He counted out the money owed and pushed his cart to the counter for bagging. Finished with hers, Bella immediately began to bag his. He felt helpless in her presence. Again.

He put his hands on the cart. If nothing else…he'd drive. They went out to the car, and she lifted the trunk lid. She was going to unload all by herself, it seemed, but he pulled back the cart and moved in so he could unload. She sighed like he was the biggest pain in the butt God ever created. When he finished, she said she would return the cart because he might fuck it up.

She had no idea that comment made him bleed a little more. He couldn't believe it either. He got back in the car and waited. Once she entered, he looked away. "I'd like to get you some gas," he said to his reflection.

"What? Get out of town, turkey," she said, starting the car.

He smiled a little, but he was hurt. "No one says that anymore."

"I do," she said, backing out of the spot.


	16. Chapter 16

Devotion 16

The ride home was quiet. It wasn't comfortable. He wanted to have a real conversation, and he feared how disappointing it would be.

The road rage simmered when someone cut in front of her. He figured it was mostly about him…about the way it was between them, two almost strangers who didn't get along. Well, for his part he was willing, but she was too difficult.

"You ah," she said as they neared home, "you're like the sensitive type," she said. She was smirking. Nasty habit, that.

"I thought you didn't care, but you get hurt like…quickly. Yeah, you're the worst type for me to be around. I can pull it off at Vibe. If I don't hang around. Sensitive types. But I guess…I say stuff sometimes." She sighed. "Sue me."

He put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. She was a terrible apologizer. Insulting. Repentant. Exonerating herself all in one go. She didn't even need his input in this conversation.

"I guess," she continued, "I'll take that lock-box. You still got it, right?"

"Yes," he said. He'd meant to walk it back to the store and get his forty-nine bucks, but Emmett's check came through.

"Well, I'll take it then. I talked to Alice. She…" Bella smirked again. "Alice is impossible. But…believe it or not I can get my way if I want to."

He shot a quick look. He had no doubt she could get her way.

They were at a stoplight, and Edward flinched when someone sprayed the windshield with something. Quick wiping from a man's beefy arm followed.

"Hey!" Bella rapped on the window. The light had changed.

Edward rolled his window down, a fiver in his hand. " _Obrigado_."

The guy took the money, tucking in his shirt pocket.

" _Que a Virgem te abenco_ ," the man spoke back.

" _Cuide-se_ ," Edward returned, cranking up the glass.

Someone honked from behind. Bella had been staring at Edward, and now she put her foot to the gas, and they shot forward only to come to a screeching halt as traffic was stalled in the intersection.

Edward managed not to yell out. She drove like she did everything else, it seemed. With fury.

"You're like…is that street Mex or what?" she said.

He chewed his lip a bit. He could say yes and be done with it. "Portuguese," he said instead. He did not say how he had studied the language for two years. That and French, Italian as well as Spanish. He did not say languages came easily to him. Many things…came easily to him. Many things did not.

"Portuguese?" she said as they lurched into movement. "You've been to Portugal or something, dude?"

He laughed thinking how one of his mentors perceived the word, 'dude.' It was the common man's 'sir,' that fellow said. But until Bella, it was never Edward's title.

"Something," he said to her.

She stared at him. Too much. The car was moving. "You ever gonna tell me something?" she said.

"What?" he said.

"You've seen me. You've been watching for weeks now—where I live, my come and go. My work. You've had something to say about all of it, too. I've told you about Marvin. You know I fight with my sister. You know Jasper comes around. You met my daughter, God sake. You even seen me use the Food Stamps. So fuck you, Edward!"

He laughed a little. "Yeah well, maybe I'm too weak to talk to a tough girl like you," he said.

He knew he'd provoked her. Everything did, and he'd flicked her a little with what he said, but he'd taken a great deal of insult from her, and that wasn't out of his comfort zone, he knew how to turn the cheek, but she kept coming and swinging. So he showed up a little. Just a little.

She pulled inside herself then, drove like a nut. They got home in no time. She got out, slammed her door. He followed more slowly. He got to the trunk she shoved his bags at him. "You're ruining my chips," he said.

"Sue me," she said again. Oh man, were those tears in her eyes?

"I didn't want to upset you," he said.

"Yes you did," she said, throwing her weight to one leg. Hip out like that meant he was in for it. "I was right about you. You think you're better than us. Than me for sure. You sleep on cardboard. You're a motherfucking drunk on top of it. Whatever you were…you ain't that anymore, brother. So take a look. A real look in the mirror cause you are on the bottom. And at the bottom…we don't use the same yardstick. You know?"

She slammed the trunk and flew past him.

"Bella," he said, arms loaded but making a futile grab for her. "Wait!" he called out.

She stopped. "I'd like to talk to you. But not while you're mad. Put your stuff away," he said. "Then…come down for some...Bagel Bites."

"You're making fun of them, aren't you? Sure you are. You're too good for Bagel Bites. But you don't have a fucking thing in your refrigerator."

He laughed some. "You're right," he said. "You ah…said I was a loser. A, ah…weak…turkey loser to be clear."

A smile nearly broke through. Finally. "You make me mad," she defended.

"Maybe…that's you judging me because…I'm not out to make you mad."

"Oh no?" she said, wanting him to grovel, it seemed.

"I'm just…trying to live," he said. It was the truest thing about himself he could give her standing on the curb in daylight.

"You ain't trying hard enough," she said with a sincerity that got to him.

He could turn it back on her, and for a split second he nearly did, but he wanted peace with her.

Why?

He just did. So he fumbled around and shook the box of Bagel Bites a little. "Before work?" he said.

And he knew he'd regret it. He waited while she thought it over and he half-hoped she'd insult him again and take off.

"Sure. I'll a…bring Shanni."

"Yeah," he said. He had not see that coming. He suddenly had so much to do. It was good…right? Terrifying. He already felt tired. And…whatever. Too late to turn back now.


	17. Chapter 17

Devotion 17

Yes, the regret was immediate and very strong. Edward saw the apartment for the first time. Really saw it. He put his bags in the kitchen, went in the living room, remembered he had frozen food, went back in the kitchen. The freezer was caked in white frost. He could barely fit his two boxes of food in there.

He threw the rest in the refrigerator part, cranked it to ten, slammed the door.

What? This place was a mess. Esme's offerings were still strewn across the counter, a few things on the floor. He gathered those, dumped everything in the sink. The rest was past straightening out. He gathered everything up and put it in the oven. After several mad throw-ins he got the door to stay closed. He looked around. Plates? He had a pack of paper ones. Got those back out of the oven and put them on the table. Only had two chairs and one was outside.

He hurried to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He pulled his shirt to his nose and sniffed. He couldn't tell how repulsive he was. He smoothed his long hair back with water and ran a hand over the near-beard on his face. No time to worry about it. She'd already seen him.

He looked at the toilet because girls had to sit. He flushed it. It was bad. He remembered the bleach wipes and hurried to get those. Once he got started he kept going and there was a knock on the door.

His heart was hammering around as he stood there, noticing the disgusting pile of wipes, one still in his hand. He got a bag out of the kitchen for trash. And there was a lot of trash. "Yeah!" he shouted toward the door as he picked up a couple of bottles and righted the library table and got the pile out of the bathroom.

He opened the door holding the trashbag and out of breath.

Bella stood there with Shanni. Each of them held things, like they were a couple of waitresses and he'd ordered a three-course meal.

They looked clean and…stable. They were too good for him.

"Alice cooks," Bella said passing him. Delicious smells.

"She cooks," Shanni said also walking past.

They went in the kitchen.

"She'll be along," Bella said from the other room.

Edward was still holding the knob, the door open, the smells of the food lingering.


	18. Chapter 18

Devotion 18

Edward left the door wide for Alice. In the back of his brain, his voice screamed a firm _no_. _I don't want this._ But it was too late now, and the good smells were pulling him toward the kitchen.

He had been the recipient of much hospitality in his thirty-four years. But when it came to being the host, the source of it, he lacked. He saw that now as Shanni looked around the kitchen for…something.

"You got a potholder?" she said.

Oh. He…might. The oven. He looked there, but no way. Bella followed his gaze. "For real?" she said.

She went to the oven and yanked it wide.

"Mom," Shanni was correcting, eyes darting toward Edward to gauge his reaction. After all, if he wanted them to see the horde, he wouldn't have hidden it in the oven.

Bella was peeking at the mess. "You have some cabinets, you know," she said, starting to put the items on the scrap of counter. "Kitchens…organizing is my thing. Shanni wipe those drawers out. You know how Marvin was. Get all the boogeymen out, and we'll have this place good in no time."

"I can do that," Edward said, frustrated. They couldn't understand, and he didn't need them to. The discomfort was by choice, as deliberate as what she was doing now, organizing, thinking she improved his lot.

"If you really wanted to do it…you would have, right?" she said amused. She was correct, and that gave him pause. She knew then.

"And for me…it's like Christmas. This stuff is like…William and Sonoma," Bella said holding up a pair of shiny silver salad tongs, snapping them like jaws.

No, she didn't have a clue about him.

Shanni had taken one of the new dishrags, and she was already scrubbing.

"Get the table, too," Bella told her. Edward could see how eager Shanni was to help. It had never ceased to amaze him, how children were basically devoted to their parents no matter how hard it was at home. Parents killed the devotion sometimes, at various levels of the kid's development, but by nature, children so badly wanted to please. It had been the case with him. With his mother, he'd been pathetic, felt all the burden for her happiness from a very young age. And it was evident to him, Shanni adored Bella.

Needing to move, he figured he could at least bring the other chair in. One thing was certain. Alice would bring her own seating.

And speaking of, Alice arrived as Edward was entering the window, chair awkwardly in tow.

"Better put that screen back in," Alice said. "Foley ain't much, but it comes to the screens he gets hysterical."

Edward immediately checked her lap for the gun.

"Yeah, they don't work," Alice said, noticing his gaze and assuming he stared at her legs.

"I figured," he said. "The chair."

"Don't be a smart ass," she said wheeling herself further in. She looked around, eyes landing on the box-bed. "Like what you've done with the place."

"Thanks," he said.

He noticed the cloth bag she held over the side of the chair. She held it up to him. "That's the bread."

"Oh. I could smell it from here."

"It's my perfume," she said shaking her short dark hair. "Baked." Then she laughed.

"I was thinking about a place I was once. They made bread every Saturday and the smell…I was thinking about that," he said.

"Portugal?" She grinned. News had traveled fast.

"This was down south."

"Mississippi?" But she didn't wait around for the answer, and that was good because he had no plans to give it, but he'd been talking about a place way further south than Mississippi.

Edward insisted they gather at the table. He stood at the counter, leaned against it, held his plate not too far under his chin. He felt conflicted. But it had come to him, this beautiful food, just like before when Bella had brought the spaghetti, his last true meal. He went ahead and shoveled.

"There's more," Alice said after a few seconds. Edward realized they'd been watching.

He felt sheepish then and lowered the dish. "It's good," he said.

"I call it a mess," Alice said.

"She's like the best cook ever," Bella said, also taking a big bite.

Alice smiled as she ran her fork through the colorful rice dish. "She says that. Praise for the crippled girl."

To Edward's surprise, they all broke out laughing. Shanni looked at him over the top of her glass to see if he'd go along.

"Praise then," he said, raising his piled fork before shoving it into his mouth.

He ate two plates filled with food. Three slices of bread with some cheap margarine.

He'd been starving. And until he had them to eat with…he'd had no idea.

"Now that I'm down here, I want to see that plant," Alice said, wheeling away from the table.

"You can have it," Edward said after her, but he made no move from his position at the counter.

"She don't need another thing," Bella said. "She's got that apartment so crammed with all her crap, I mean projects. Every time someone moves she gets the plants!"

"And the antiques," Shanni added, a little smile like Aunt Alice was exasperating.

"Another word for old crap," Bella laughed.

"Shanni!" Alice called.

Shanni left the table in pursuit of her aunt's call. Edward was amazed at how much…energy. Talk. Movement.

"I mean it," Bella said toward the living room between bites. "We're not taking that plant. We already have the Climatron in our kitchen and living room."

He didn't want to get involved. It didn't matter if Alice took the plant or not. Was everything a fight with these two?

Then Alice's voice raised, and she was talking fast. Bella shot up from her chair and in the doorway crashed into a breathless Shanni. "Jasper's here," the girl said, eyes darting from Bella to Edward.

Edward stood a little straighter. Bella pushed Shanni further into the kitchen and went out. Edward followed. Alice was at the window, holding the plant, the screen still removed. "I told you I never wanted to see your face again you bastard!"

Jasper stood too near the window. "Five minutes, Allie," he said.

"It's that fucker Aro," Alice said to no one in particular. "He called him and told him I came down."

Bella pushed up to the window. "Jasper, just go. Don't come around here, like she said."

"I just want to see you, Allie. Look at you, baby. This is the closest we been in seven years."

Alice seemed stuck for a moment. Edward had gotten close enough to realize she was crying. "I can't bear to look at you. I don't ever want to see you again. Stay out of my life. Stay away from me." Her voice was so subdued. So broken. It only drew Jasper closer. He got right up to the window.

"Baby, you know how sorry I am. All I can think of is you. All that time. Now I'm out it's worse. It's worse, baby. I don't care about your legs…any of it. I just…I need to be able to see you…"

"You don't care!" Alice shouted. "It don't matter! I care! I care!"

"Go on," Bella said. She set the plant on the floor, and she bent over Alice like Edward had seen her do before. "Calm down," she said to her sister. "Settle down."

"Make him go," Alice kept saying.

Edward went out of the apartment. The moment he got close to the outside doors he heard the escalation, Alice's screaming, and Jasper's yelling. He heard Bella.

"Hey," Edward said, walking quickly toward the argument.

Finally, his near approach got Jasper's attention. "What the fuck, man! Who are you?" Jasper said to Edward. Then, "Hey. I seen you somewhere before. You a cop?"

"No," Edward said.

"No. Not a cop," Jasper said, still confused. "Get the fuck outta my face."

Edward knew Jasper would love to unleash his anger somewhere. He was still trying to appeal to Alice, but she was hysterical now, and Bella had joined in. A couple of neighbors across the way were standing in their doorways. "This isn't working," Edward said to Jasper who was calling after Alice as Bella wheeled her away.

"This doesn't help your cause," Edward said. "She has an OP."

"You the big man now?" Jasper said, diverting his attention to Edward now that Alice was out of Edward's apartment.

"No. It's not like that."

"You fuckin' Bella or Alice?"

"I'm just a neighbor. I'm nothing."

"Nothing? What the fuck is that?"

"This isn't helping your cause, showing up like this," Edward repeated.

"You don't know me," Jasper said, angry.

"You're right," Edward said. Jasper knew he was wrong about a lot of things, but hearing he was right about something might bring his anger down. "I don't know you. But I've seen Alice do this twice now. She doesn't want to see you like this. Sudden and…she doesn't want it. So it doesn't help you, man. Maybe a letter? I don't know. But this isn't working."

Jasper's finger drilled once toward Edward's shoulder. "You the fucking janitor or some shit?"

"No," Edward said.

"I seen you before."

"The other day. In the yard."

"No. I seen you somewhere else."

"I don't know about that," Edward said, not believing this guy had seen him anywhere. "Maybe another way. Maybe she needs time. You just got out. That's what she said."

"She talk to you about me?"

"Just that. When you were here the other day."

"She tell you the rest? She tell you I put her in that chair?"

Edward didn't answer right away. "No. She ah…she didn't say that. Why don't you go home, man? Think it over."

Edward kept his distance, but Jasper narrowed the space between them. "You got no idea about Alice and me. You put yourself in my way one too many times, fucker."

Here came the sucker punch, but Edward knew it was coming. He stepped into it, planted his feet and grabbed Jasper's fist with both hands. He lowered Jasper's arm enough to quickly push him off balance. Jasper hit the ground hard.

"I don't want to fight you, man." Edward said. He knew better than to offer his hand. Jasper got up on his own. He was degraded now. Pride would require some kind of brutal response.

"The cops are on their way!" Bella's voice rang out from the window above.

"Go on," Edward said, knowing good decisions weren't a given in this guy's life. He was calming enough to know they weren't always a given in his either.

Jasper looked up at the window. "Allie…I know you can hear me. I'll be back, you hear me?"

He looked at Edward. "Next time you fuck with me will be the last time."

Edward knew he was still too close should Jasper decide to attack. But after another look up, he started to walk away.

When Jasper was gone, Edward turned to see several were in their doorways. A couple of younger guys were in the courtyard. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?" one asked him.

Edward shook his head like he didn't know. Hadn't trained. For years.

Bella came out then. She was out of breath from taking the stairs it seemed. Edward got to the doors, and she followed him toward his apartment. "Where are you going?" she grabbed his arm and he stopped short of making it to his door.

"I'm going inside," he said, nodding toward his door. He felt the pressure of her grip. Looked there. Her hand there.

"What was that? You were…you took him down like…" Her face showed a mixture of worry and admiration. She was wrong to worry about him. More wrong to admire him.

"Is Alice..?" he said.

"She'll be all right," Bella said, impatient, like they didn't have the time nor need to discuss anything but the altercation.

"Did you really call the cops?" he said.

"No. Shit. No," she said. "But I was going to if…you didn't look like you needed help," she said, almost like she was accusing him of something.

She moved a little closer. "He threw that punch…hey, guys fight. I see fights, believe me. And I know when a man can handle himself. You're one of those guys, Edward McCarty," she said. "The more you know, the less you use. That's what the boys say that bounce at Vibe."

She was right about that. The only good fight was the one you completely avoided. But if you knew how to do it, to fight, you didn't have to use it. You didn't usually need to.

"None of them put a guy down like you did Jasper. You've got to give me some answers, Edward. You're pulled into our shit now. What if he comes back? I don't want you to get in trouble because of us."

Bella had both hands on his arm now. With her looking up at him…his hand raised a little, and he lightly touched the buttons on his shirt, mid-level. He felt whatever it was they made—the energy. He was trained to feel it. She fit into the space around him, her chin where his chest divided, her breasts where his muscles went conclave over his stomach, the smooth front of her over the deep need to answer her in some primal way. Her eyes…he saw the wrong things there, the good things, the need, the give, the finished self and the unsure, unformed, unfinished woman she was. She was wanted but not adored. Noticed but not celebrated. Full of bravado but short on confidence. She was tapped. But untapped. Touched. But untouched. Not pure. Not loved. She was dormant inside. She was hardened. But redeemable. It stabbed him with sorrow that someone might discover all he knew now. It wouldn't be him. But for her sake, for Shanni's, he had to hope for her. Pray for her to find what she needed. The generosity…was killing.

He told himself to be real. To stay here and be real and not spin off in some wistful bullcrap. Sweet as she looked now in the dimness of this hall, he'd always known she was a little dirty. Just enough to be wrong. Which made her right. And approachable. For now. For right now.

Maybe she was strong enough to survive him. Maybe?

He removed her hands from his arm. He was gentle. He held them for a minute with his own, looked there. Her hands in his, hers small and rough. She worked hard. She was a mother. Shanni's mother.

"What are you thinking?" she said, her breast pushing against his arm. She would take this further. All he had to do was open the door.

"I'm thinking it's time for you to go to work," he said.

"So you don't want to talk?" she said. A little anger there. "You were just in a fight. You could have been hurt."

"Did he really put Alice in her chair?" he said.

She stayed pressed against him, her eyes…intense. She was feigning anger to hide her disappointment. "He told you that? What a jerk."

"How did it happen?" They could go there. They could talk about this.

"He was driving," she said. "You want this story you have to give me one. After work." She pulled away from him now. For a moment, he was bereft. As if he was used to her nearness. Counted on it to get through the evening.

"And I'll get the box then. For the gun. Remember?" she said.

"And you'll wait and let them walk you out. To your car after work," he said. He hadn't meant to say it.

But with Bella, he spoke from a different place, and it was opening, the side of him that took something on, someone, and didn't know how to do it halfway. It was daunting, the commitment he could make…the devotion.

Maybe he understood Jasper.

Maybe they were the same.


	19. Chapter 19

Devotion 19

Music spilled from the busy doorway to Vibe. Edward leaned against Bella's car watching the door. He'd walked here, so it was well into Bella's shift. Close to two a.m. and still, this place was as busy as a church on Sunday morning, its congregants drove by the need to feel good. To feel better. To feel nothing.

Or perhaps it wasn't that complicated. That deep. He was the one to scratch every surface and look for more. It was a rare type of greed. His wanting.

But a soul needed an anchor. It needed to be set in something solid.

Edward knew that. He knew all about that.

And still, he was thirsty. Soul thirst. It came from an empty spirit that wasn't rooted in anything.

Frightening and exhilarating to think he'd pulled anchor and was drifting. But not tonight. Right now? He was curious. He was doing what he did. Watching. And for a moment…he'd found a goal.

And still, the thirst burned his throat, wanting him to stop all pursuit. He wanted a drink. One drink. And that wouldn't cut it. Wouldn't solve his problems. One decision. One at a time. Run. Sweat. Pound—feet on pavement, fists against the bag, knees against the floor, whip against his flesh. Speak it real and humble. Admit. Stop the self-pity. Get in the flow. Stop swimming against the current. Be carried. Surrender.

Surrender.

Or swim against the current. Try. Good people didn't float. They fought.

It could be spun either way. Float. Fight. It was all bullshit.

And he'd known all of it. In an effort to go deep, he'd only gotten buried in the sludge of human effort. Oh, he knew all of it. How alluring ancient truth could sound to someone slathered in pride. He wasn't unique. Truth wasn't unique. There was always another truth around the door. In the corner lurking to draw someone like him right in.

Lick the floor. Lay in the door and let the others walk over you. Put it to death. Really kill it.

And so he had.

And so this resurrection at the exact place where he'd started, only worse. And that was a truth as well. Appetites. Addictions. Distractions.

How true was his judgment when he was so conflicted inside? Not conflicted. Nothing. He was nothing. And nothing was clamoring for…everything he'd missed.

And she…was the doorway…to it all.

There was a line outside, and he waited his turn. It moved quickly. Vibe was big. The bouncer looked Edward up and down. These boys didn't move like him. That's what Bella had said. He smiled to himself. She saw things like a ten-year-old boy might. Like the bigger boys in the courtyard. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

He had them all fooled. And it wasn't hard.

Inside, the place was dark, but lights flickered. The atmosphere was creating a mind set. On/off. On/off. Light/dark. Light/dark.

He moved to the crowded bar. Bella was not in sight. He tried to order her drink, but the impatient waiter didn't know what he was talking about. So he ordered a beer. They brought it to him in the bottle. He carried that further into the place. Lots of dancing. She was there. Not working at all. She was on a platform in the middle of the dance floor moving well to the music. A big smile for the crowd that danced around her. When she jumped off, there were arms waiting. She continued to dance on the floor.

She was taking a course, she had said. They had a drink named for her. She got a tray from off a nearby table, and good-naturedly it seemed set to clearing it. She was followed, and she talked and laughed with the two men that were clearly interested, touching her, friendly, one of them stroking a hand down her back. She took a card from him, stuck it in her bra. They moved off, and she finished clearing the table, her hips all work now. Then she wiped it down and let the loaded tray ride her shoulder as she made her way to the bar.

Someone called her name. There were cheers, whistling. He heard the rise of her voice and respondent laughter. But she was not the bartender. There were three. All sculpted men.

She was the energy.

She was the vibe. That's how he saw it.

Truth.


	20. Chapter 20

Devotion 21

Edward had moved back to the parking lot before Bella's shift was over. He saw the usual horsing around a summer night brought in a place like this. It was the crap that proved the adage that nothing good happened after two a.m. Or more aptly, that men live quiet lives of desperation.

Bella came out before the place had died down, but long after people had been allowed in. He thought of her remark… _I'm like the last guy that won't leave the bar_. She was that guy tonight. Did she dread going home? Her boss said she'd been trashed. The dancing. She was bold. Wild. Some might say unpredictable but not in a way to be admired. Not by him.

Yet, in contrast to him, Bella was alive and kicking. Bruised and confused. Her energy made him feel how different they were. He'd always approached decisions with careful critical thinking.

She worked from beneath, barely ever broke the surface of life.

He'd not only known the surface, he'd stayed above it, protected by a life as solid as Old Ironsides. But the ocean was littered with impregnable wrecks that had become apartments for fish. Nothing was unsinkable.

Now Edward was tired. It looked like patience.

When Bella finally came out of Vibe, it was in a group. Three men and Bella. Laughing. And he realized the most attentive one was the guy from the courtyard that night. Khakis and undershirt. Tonight he was dressed in black. Like a Ninja. He was handsy and Bella wasn't put out about it. They were familiar.

Edward had been leaning on Bella's car because they had…not a date, but an appointment. To talk. About what? Something that had seemed to matter earlier. He straightened now and wondered if he should leave, but he wouldn't leave. Why should he? He meant nothing. He was just a friend, or not even that. A neighbor. He didn't even need the ride he'd been waiting on. It was the curiosity? Seeing if Bella came out of Vibe at night like a rabbit in the midst of wolves. Did he believe that?

He wanted to. It was the only justification for being here.

About halfway to her car, she spotted Edward. Undershirt spotted him the same time. The other two had already dropped off and gone to their car, but Undershirt was hopeful and had his arm around Bella's neck now.

"What's up with this guy?" Undershirt said to her, not moving the near headlock that bound Bella to him.

Bella smirked, but she was also surprised to see Edward. "You waited?" she asked. "Just full of surprises tonight."

All Edward had to do was say, "I can go. No big deal." But he wouldn't say that. He also wouldn't answer a stupid question.

"I need a ride," he said.

Bella quickly worked Undie's arm off of her. "You didn't even say good-bye so how was I supposed to know..?"

"Hey, fuck, this is my ride, dude." Undie said, emphasis on 'my.'

"There's a backseat," Edward said, also wondering if this guy had been in the backseat with Bella.

"A backseat," Undie repeated.

"Okay," Bella said moving to the driver's door and unlocking it. She carried things which she dumped between the seats. "I'll see you later," she said to Undie right before she got in and slammed the door.

"What the fuck?" Undie asked moving to her window and rapping knuckles on the glass.

Bella leaned and unlocked Edward's door. He got in on the passenger's side.

She started the car and rolled down the window. "You can always get a ride," she told Undie. Then she laughed and so did he, but not really. Undie had lost his sense of humor it seemed. "No, no. Don't do me like this." He leaned window level and said to Edward, "Fuck's up, man?"

Edward looked away. He nearly told Bella to back out, but this was her deal. He put his seatbelt on.

"What? You can't talk, dummy?" Undie said, and Bella rolled the window up.

"See ya!" she yelled, backing out like the old car had juice.

Edward watched the guy's frustration. Undie read it all wrong, like Edward was a rival. He wasn't a rival. He was barely in Bella's life at all. Or anyone's. Even his own.

"He's pretty ticked off," Edward said.

"He'll get over it," Bella said, shifting and pealing out with an arrogance that made her laugh. "What?" she said, her eyes so dark and full of herself. "You don't think he'll get over it? You can't hurt that guy. His ego…sure. But that's because he's male. He's too young. Not really smart."

Now Edward smirked.

"What?" she said again.

"Glad to see you like them smart."

The mirth left her eyes. "Fuck you, Edward."

"What?" he said.

"Like I don't care if they're smart. You're an ass." She accelerated. "You show up at my work. You're so judgmental. You don't have any right…"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said.

"You know what? Who cares," she said floating around the car in front of them. "I'll take you home. That's it. We don't have to talk. It doesn't work with you and me. You wanted to punch him. I felt it."

"I never wanted to punch him," Edward said.

"Oh no? That's why you left the club. You couldn't stand it." She taunted him.

"Stand what?"

"Them. My minions!"

He feigned dumbness.

She leaned toward him. "I sell drinks, Edward. I sell the Vibe!" She wagged her brows.

He smirked again, but he turned his face away and remembered to relax. It was close in here and he wasn't in the mood for this kind of talk and her driving was a disaster.

"Ever sell a vibe, Edward?"

He took a deep breath. She smelled like spilled beer. Her car…everything. "Is that like lazers? You shoot lazers out of your fingertips?" He smiled at himself, pictured her dancing. And lazers.

"Funny. Real funny. Perfect description. I mow them down. I'm very powerful. You might call me the queen." She sped through a light. He hoped the queen was above getting ticketed for traffic violations.

She pulled into a parking lot. All night diner. A silver place. Grime on the windows.

"C'mon," she said. "You can buy me a hot dog." She was out before he could say, 'not here.'

He followed her inside. He tried to keep his eyes off of her body. Truth, she had a pull and he'd closed his eyes for a moment and was able to keep up, that's when he knew how tuned in he was to her.

She led him to a booth. The last booth. There was a guy at the counter, steam rising from an opening to the kitchen. A window unit ground out semi-cold air near their booth. She half-fell in her side of the taped red vinyl and he did likewise across from her. Like that, lined up from her? It was almost more than he was ready for so he leaned against the back of the booth but she hunched forward, elbows on the table. "You're supposed to say, 'where'd you learn to dance like that?'"

"Huh?" he said stupidly.

"My dancing?"

Oh. He figured she wanted it on the table there, the fact he'd seen her dancing when she'd presented herself as tending bar and learning nuts and bolts about it. This is how she handled uncertainty, maybe. Embarrassment maybe. But she wasn't embarrassed. Not nearly.

He felt her feet tap against each side of his own.

"What are you doing?" he laughed. But he wasn't laughing.

"Relax. I'm holding you here. You look ready to bolt. Isn't this what you wanted? You came to my work. You waited for me. Chased off my squeeze."

The waitress came to the table. She knew Bella. "I'll have my usual," she said, eyes on Edward. "He'll have…chicken liver?" She grinned.

The woman started to say they didn't have chicken livers, but Bella just laughed.

"It's okay on the chicken," Edward said. "I'll have coffee."

"Oh no," Bella said. "Give him a dog. Like mine."

As she walked away with the order Bella told him, "You're no fun. You can't tell me you ate. I've seen your kitchen."

"You're a good dancer," he said and finally she got still. But she was smiling the whole time.

"You're full of shit, you know. A compliment doesn't count if you have to force it out of someone."

"That's too bad," Edward said.

"Why's that? Too bad you're full of shit?"

Her feet tap-tapped against his. He wasn't used to being touched like that. By a woman other than his mother and this wasn't motherly. Not even close.

She sat back a little when the waitress brought their drinks. Diet for Bella, water for him. The waitress smiled at Edward like they shared a joke.

"She wants you," Bella whispered.

"Bella," he chided. The woman was in hearing distance and burst out laughing as she went behind the counter.

"You can have him," Bella called and the two women shared a laugh.

Bella leaned closer, "See? You're a hottie. But you didn't come here to be sexually harassed."

"You brought us here," he reminded.

Now she did flop against the back of the booth. "You want to talk at your apartment?"

"This is okay. Talk about what?"

"Oh. Act like I made it up. We were going to talk, remember?"

"Yeah. I'm here. Listening. When you're ready…"

"No. I'm not the one holding out. You talk."

He sipped the water. "Looking for a fresh start. In touch with my family but not…not close. Like to be by myself."

"No. No you don't like to be by yourself like you think."

"No?"

"You want to be alone you don't take that apartment in that building. You like to watch. No what-do-you-call-it. You like to be on the outside looking in. But you don't want to get on the inside."

He said nothing.

"Think about it and you'll have to admit I'm right."

"You're the queen. Long live the queen."

"Oh, sarcastic are we? I guess I hit a sore spot."

The waitress brought their food. Two Chicago dogs. Bella added catsup to hers.

"You know I can never eat a hotdog without thinking of these three fat ladies that lived on my block. Every summer they'd have a big yardsale, save up stuff all winter, trash pick and rob the bags people set out for the Goodwill. And one of them would bring a Tupperware thing full of hotdogs and the three of them would sit there in their creaky green lawnchairs and eat those dogs…like six apiece. Every time I get a dog I think of them and there is no good reason for it."

He licked his lips. "Now I'll think about them."

She took her first bite and laughed with the mustard dripping down her chin and her wiping at it with a napkin. "Where'd you grow up, Edward?"

Her brown eyes sparkled with interest. Her skin was even. Smooth like cream. She was so alive. So real and imperfect and rude and… She was nosey and she was used to meeting people.

"You're on, aren't you?" he said.

"Always, Edward," she said before another big bite she also found hilarious. He couldn't watch her and not join in. She licked her fingers. "So what turns you on? Edward?"

She wiped her mouth, her lips. "You ah…you weren't afraid of those guys...at Vibe. You're a fighter. Like Special Ops…or Tom Cruise." She laughed before finishing the dog. "You grow up in Chicago?"

"No. Pittsburgh."

"Okay. Never been but yeah. You fight there? In Pittsburgh?"

He smiled now and filled his mouth with food. He chewed. "Very good," he said as soon as he could. He wiped over his mouth and chin.

"You live in Chicago and never had a dog?"

He laughed. "Not like this."

"Glad I could turn you on to it," she said pleased with herself. She took a long drink of the Coke, watching him the whole time.

He continued to eat. Her feet tightened their hold. "You know, Edward, I'll bet you're super educated. You've traveled. You were raised rich. An only child?"

He took his time eating.

"Am I right? Spoiled and like…adored. Little Lord Fauntleroy. Whoever that is." She laughed and drained the Coke.

"He finished and wiped his face and hands. "You got me," he said.

"Oh," she said taking his hand. "Let's see. I'm real good at this…reading your palm. You've got really nice hands. My God, look how long your fingers are McCarty!" She laid hers over his and his were a third larger. "Play piano much?"

"Yes," he said. "I blame Mrs. Yokito. She made me stretch."

"For real?" she said.

He shrugged. She still held his hand.

"Let me see," she adjusted and got up on her knees, knocking the plates out of her way. She stoked over his palm a couple of times and it felt strange and…he liked it. "Oh shit. No way," she said studying his palm.

"What?" he said.

"Oh, you're a real fast thinker. Kind of decisive," she said tracing one of the lines on his hand. "But you're sensitive. You'll like think of what someone says. Take it to heart, you know?" She was close and she looked at him and smiled.

Up close like that, he understood her appeal. Having someone. It wasn't possible for him. He didn't know how to share himself that way. Share his life. He'd get weird. Have to be left alone, frequently, for long periods of time. But right now…it was sweet, her touching him, making over his hand.

"You got me," he said.

They got stuck there for a minute.

"Yeah?" she said softly.

Then the little bell over the door tinkled and she looked over Edward's shoulder towards the sound. "What are you doing here?" she said.

Edward turned to see whom she addressed. Undie and his two buddies.


	21. Chapter 21

Devotion 21

"Hey, you do me that way? Where's my dog, man? I want a dog." This was Undie talking. Apparently, he knew all about Bella stopping here after work. Edward had replaced Undie, and he wasn't taking it lying down.

Bella stood. "We're out of here, dude. You want something get a menu."

Edward stood as well, threw money on the table and started to follow Bella out. Undie was chattering, but Edward was sizing up where everyone stood.

"I can do whatever I want," Bella said to Undie now.

Undie and the two others crowded the door. Edward caught up with Bella and pushed her past the first two. Undie blocked the way.

"Slow down," Undie said.

"Get out of the way, Riley," Bella said.

"Excuse us," Edward said.

"Move," Bella said, pushing against Riley.

"You with him now? All night…" Riley said.

"Get out of my way," Bella said closer to Riley's face.

Edward moved Bella enough he could squeeze in front of her. He forced Riley to take a step back.

"Get your hands off me, man," Riley yelled.

The cookie came out of the back. "No trouble now," he was saying from behind the counter.

"No trouble," Edward said, allowing Bella to squeeze through the small space he'd made pushing Riley back. She got out the door, and Edward followed. And Riley followed. And the two he was with.

Undie was still mouthy. He said her name five, six times. Bella turned and yelled, "I'm going home. If you're bent out of shape, that's on you. This kind of stuff doesn't work on me. Now back off."

"All night you been playin' me?" Riley said.

"No," Bella said. "I was doing my job, asshole."

Bella got in the car. Edward got in his side more slowly. Before she pulled out, Riley punched the hood. Bella slammed on the brakes and Edward said sternly, "Go!"

She shot Edward a look and put it in park and got out the door charging to inspect the front of her car. "You hit my car? Don't come around me again. I see you at the club I'll have them throw you out."

"Why you do me like this?" Riley said getting close to her. His two buddies stayed put near the door of the restaurant. They seemed amused.

"We were having fun. That's all. It was never going anywhere," she said loudly. "What are you going to do? Force yourself on me? That's assault. This right here? It's an incident. I get a PO on you forget visiting your buddies at my building."

Edward had his hand on the door ready to exit.

"Oh yeah? Like with Jasper and that bitch Alice?" Riley said.

Edward expected Bella to explode, but she got right up in Riley's face. "You think that guy inside hasn't called the cops? Stay right here dude, and it will go down just like I said."

Riley shook his hands up and down like he was scared. Edward moved a little, watching those hands.

One of his buddies said, "C'mon, man. No cops. The bitch ain't worth it."

Riley spat. "You so right," he said, eyes still on Bella.

Bella turned away and got back in the car. She threw it in reverse and pealed out like she had at Vibe.

They were far down the road when she asked Edward, "You got nothing to say?"

She drove too fast, and her car ran like its knees were knocking.

"Well," she said looking at him, less patient, "at least tell me how I did. That's why you showed up, isn't it?"

She looked away, and Edward studied her.

"You wanted to see how it was. If I could handle myself." She smirked at him. Proud.

She was right. He'd stayed at Vibe to see how it was. To assess how it was for her.

But that's not the only reason he had come.

"You're reckless," he said.

"Oh?" she laughed. She drove faster.

But he'd meant to say it about himself—the reckless part.

He looked in the side view mirror.

He was having trouble staying away from her. And apparently, so was Undie.

"Up ahead, you get by the warehouses, pull in a side street," Edward said.

Bella looked at him like he was on fire, then she checked the mirror. "I can handle this," she said firmly.

"You've had your turn," he said.

"What are you going to do? Go all Wild West! There are three of them!"

"Turn up here," Edward said. "Go down the street. Down to the tracks. Turn right."

"That's not a street!"

"Do it," Edward said looking over his shoulder. Undie hadn't turned yet.

Bella turned and went along the tracks.

"Cross them," Edward said.

"What? I'm nursing these tires, dude."

"Now!" Edward said. She crossed them. There were more tracks.

"Keep going!" he said.

"I don't…shit!" Bella did as he said and Edward grit his teeth to keep them in his head.

"Pull down there," he said pointing to an abandoned shack built next to the tracks. They got down there, and he told her to stop. "Kill your lights."

Bella did as he said.

"Turn it off. Turn it off!" he said.

"All right. Damn." She turned it off. "Oh my God. Where are we?"

"Sit tight," he said and exited the car quickly. He closed the door on her voice asking where he was going. He went to the water and pissed, and ran his hands through his hair. Three tracks over a train ran through, rumbling the ground.

"What the hell are we doing?" Bella yelled near his shoulder.

He didn't answer right away. They stood in the dark and watched the dark water move in front of them, and the train rumble from behind.

"You going to kill me?" she said finally. "I mean…Riley was nothing next to this."

Edward took in the air, damp and dirty, but better here than nights in his apartment when he awoke choking.

"I've a…I've been two things. Worn two uniforms." He looked quickly at her. "They're not so different."

"Okay," she said as the train pulled its tail into the darkness.

He studied her a moment. "If I go back…talk to you about it…I bring them here. Understand?"

Bella shook her head. "Go on."

"I'm just…this now. And I'm here. I don't know…future. I don't live for it. I don't have a goal I can explain to you. I don't have one. Just this. I'm alive. I know that. I breathe. I…shit." He laughed a little, and she moved closer. Put her hand on his arm.

"I…I thought maybe I'd try bartending. You know? But…I got bored." Now she laughed. "I…don't like…stick with things. I sometimes," she moved her chin in a bit of a circle, "tell a story…wrong. I don't know. But I can shake my ass! What can I say? I've got like…ABC. The whole fucking alphabet."

Edward touched her chin, and she was looking up at him. His hand moved down her neck, over her shoulder.

He moved his arm around her, and she stepped close, and he held her against him. Slowly, her arms came around him, and they stood like that.


	22. Chapter 22

Devotion 22

"Are you afraid of this place?" Bella asked him as they stood in the dark near the water.

Edward wasn't afraid. He was cautious. Observant. He trusted himself to come up with a plan, need be, but no, he wasn't afraid of a place. His fear was the irrational kind, the kind that snuck up on him when he slept or worse, kept him from sleeping at all. His fear was triggered by crap that had little to do with anything real. But this place?

"No," he told her, feeling content to hold her, even when nothing supported this effort at affection but his willing arms. But nothing forbade it either. He was free now. Free to do this, to feel her so near, how she was made, different. Small but...giant emotions. He had no idea how her body contained them.

"What if they find us? Or someone else? It's dark here," Bella said, making no attempt to move.

"Are you afraid?" he said, his voice smoothed by a tone foreign to him.

She took her time answering. "I should be. I guess."

He agreed. "C'mon. I want to show you something."

He was reluctant to break this ring of good feeling they had made, but he took her hand and tried to pull her toward the abandoned shack.

"Am I going to regret this?" she laughed.

"You want to know more about me," he said, and that got her quiet and more willing to follow.

They quickly reached the shack. Edward messed around with the door a little. It was swollen with disuse, and once closed it seemed locked. He shoved it with his shoulder, and it burst from the frame. Something scurried inside.

"What is this place? Crackhouse?" she asked, following him over the threshold.

He looked at it through the dim moonlight coming through the small grimed window. Wow. It was nothing.

"It smells in here," she said.

"Yeah. The ah…wildlife takes over."

"Crackheads," she said.

"Yeah. Maybe," he said.

"Dude, let's get out of here," she said.

"We ah… When I first came out…I spent a couple of weeks here," he said quietly.

"Came out? You are gay!" she accused.

"No. Walked away. From my…position. At the school. I was a teacher. I ah…I'd rather it wasn't told around. I like it…private."

She bit her bottom lip and looked around. She'd been holding onto Edward, but now she folded her arms. "So you came here? You didn't have any money? You were on the run?"

"I came up from Brazil. I'd been sent there to a retreat. I'd been there a while. I was teaching languages."

"And you came here? To this crummy hole."

"Yes."

"Why not home? Or a friend with a couch? Were you broke?"

"I could have called home. But then… If I called home they would want…I wasn't ready."

"For?"

"Their ah…good intentions. I was used to being on my own. I left right after high school. I disappointed them. At first. I made something of myself. Always had a plan that didn't jive with the direction they'd planned. My father had planned. Step-father."

"You were a teacher though. They weren't proud?"

Edward smirked. "I don't know."

"And so you quit. Isn't that what people do? They change jobs. Or did you have a contract or something? You're in trouble? You were, or you are?"

"Not in trouble. I just walked away."

"From the job. Or more? Are you married?"

He laughed some. "No. I mean I walked away from the life there. I couldn't continue. The motivation was gone."

"For teaching?"

"Not just that. For the whole life that came with it."

"What life are you talking about?" she said, her hands on her hips now.

"I was sent to the…school. It was an effort to stave off the inevitable. I knew I wanted to leave. But they thought..."

"You were staving off the end of what…your career? Or…are you sick?"

"No. Not sick. I mean, the end of my career. I was on a path for my life. It was more than a job. It was a big commitment to an organization." She had no idea at the understatement.

"One of the uniforms. Why won't you just tell me? Tell me, Edward."

"I am."

"You don't trust me."

"It's more complicated…"

He didn't yet know if he could trust her. He didn't know if she was his team or his enemy. She was out there, public. She let words fly. She was reckless.

The years of discipline. He didn't act on emotion, and that's what this was. Emotion had a purpose. It fueled duty. Devotion. But emotion couldn't call the shots. It couldn't lead. Until he understood where to put her, he couldn't open up.

"That's not how teaching jobs work, right?" she said more softly. "I mean…who sent you? Like the CIA or something? Was teaching languages your cover because…you've got secrets, dude. I've been around liars and lies for a lot of years. I'm not smart like you, but I know when someone's not on the up."

She stared at his lips, but he figured she wasn't looking for a kiss. She was looking for those lies she'd accused him of.

It would be delicious to lean over and taste her lips. He knew their attraction was mutual. He still reeled from holding her earlier.

He could lace his lack of forthrightness with sex. She'd trust that.

She asked for so little. Expected so little. He could start it. If it didn't work out…he could go. In the meantime, he'd have her again, in his arms.

He'd have her…and her complications. The unpredictable behavior. The temper. The mouth. How long before he'd want to get as far away from her as he could?

So he would. She was right. He'd go. He'd already thought about it.

But…could he give her enough in the meantime? Fill her small wants and even throw in benefits where he could? Protection certainly. He could make her life better. For a time.

And what would he lose? Just his personal conviction that life could be, should be more. That love should be the purest most selfless act of devotion. Yeah that. The core of everything he believed.

And what about Shanni? What lesson would Edward McCarty teach her by the way he would treat Bella? Would his lesson be that men, even seemingly good ones, use women and leave in the end?

And Alice. If he was with Bella, his last shred of independence would vanish. They were a packaged deal. Three of them.

It wouldn't be worth it. He was leaving. He needed to go. Soon. Very soon. Because he wasn't thinking right. And when he went down…he needed to go down alone. That's how he'd do it. Alone.

He was done with teams. Team efforts. Done being a part of something bigger than himself.

He was free.

Free to self-destruct on his own terms. His own way.

She knew it. And he did, too.

She turned and stepped back outside. "Okay, Edward. Know what? I think you're probably a good guy. But what do I know? You haven't met Shanni's father so…I have a couple of strikes. But…you play games. And I'm not up for it. I'm tired. And I've got a kid I want to check on. Need to. A mother thing. So I'm gonnna try to find my way out of shanty town and go home. You can come if you want but…if this is more your style…curl up in the corner with a squirrel and have at it. Me? I'm out."

He jammed the door shut and followed her to the car. One thing, one thing. He didn't want that shack anymore. He'd moved up. To the flat.

One more thing. He was with her now. In the car. She needed to know.

"I'm not playing games," he said.

"Really? I know what you were thinking back there, dude. You won't be around long. You're all fucked up, aren't you? That shack…my building. You don't belong there, Edward. You don't belong in my world. And I don't belong in yours. See, I knew that right off. That's why…I came on to you. I did. I wanted to. I still…want to. Cause I know you'll be gone before we have to face all the shit that would make it impossible." She laughed and started the car. "Shows how fucked up I am."

He was struck for a moment. She had blindsided him. He hadn't considered that all of his noble reasons for abstaining were the very things that attracted her to the possibility of more with him. She knew it was temporary. For her, that was the appeal.

She took a final look at him and laughed. She knew her words had rammed him further into a corner.

To his relief, she started the car and they started the miserable jog over the tracks. She cursed loudly and told him he would be buying her new tires if she got a flat.

For everything wrong about her…about him. Them, there was one thing he couldn't deny. Bella Swan was the only one who had the guts to keep on coming.

And even as he withdrew, "into his corner," she was the squirrel that might actually reach him.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The next morning Edward woke up confused about where he was.

Iraq? Yeah. He'd slept…deep.

Iraq. He was what—twenty, twenty-one?

It wasn't all kicking in doors and running special operations. Sometimes, they were ambassadors to a region, working goodwill and all kinds of services for the locals. And it wasn't all active duty. There was downtime. Stretches of it. Video games and competitions, some bogus and ridiculous, some real. Then it got busy again. Really busy. High tempo. His body leeched salt and stained his gear, and he stank strongly enough he smelled his animal self all day long. And if you didn't get shot up or blown up, you started another letter you might not send. Drank another beer. Said another prayer.

He still tasted the dust. Sand. He'd trained, relentlessly, in the Arizona desert. Yuma. Then Kuwait. But nothing prepared him for any of it-for the way that battlefield smelled. Dirt and gun oil, sure. But more than that. It was ancient, the top layer of dust so fine it went through his fingers like water. It stayed in the air, too light to settle. It plugged his nose, his tear ducts, pores.

He knew that desert wasn't his. No history pulled at him, only the strangeness of it, the oldness of it. Wasteland. A condemned garden under his boots, filling the pattern, spilling out of each step leaving a marked trail, a map that erased itself. Erased him.

And as much as he built an intellectual argument against the memory of his time there, as much as he accepted the turmoil and loss, didn't take it as a personal failure, he'd realized years ago he'd been wrong. It would always be in him, in his membranes. Even as other smells and another life layered over it. He was weighted this way. Iraq left a scar that traced a gulley down the back of his throat to his guts. And some nights his stomach roiled with it. It was his history after all.

Someone knocked on his door. The rapping knuckles were halfway down. Shanni or Alice?

"What?" he said pushing to his feet, crossing the worn boards.

He pulled the door open. The Armani cologne hit him first, like a slap in the face. Not that it was in anyway offensive, but the giver…that was the slap. It was always her favorite.

The two thousand dollar wool and silk suit. Thousand dollar Bench Leather shoes.

Four years his senior. Son of his mother. Clean shaven. Big features that went together with a handsome audacity fueled by those eyes that latched on and never let you go. It was a lot for one morning. Iraq.

And Emmett.

Edward stepped away, rubbing his face. "I asked you not to do this."

"You said you'd call, man. Or answer your phone," Emmett said following him in. "Holy shit! Austere in the real world looks like hobo town, right bro? You see that, right? This penance or something?"

"Why are you here?" Edward said going into the kitchen sink where he proceeded to put his head under the faucet.

"You getting my money?"

"Why?"

"I don't know," Emmett said leaning his expensive suit against the door frame. "You're not sinking it into the aesthetics."

"It's not your money," Edward said.

"Well…it kind of is but…whatever."

"Yeah. Whatever." It was a big topic. A sore one.

"You know, I've asked myself a hundred times, why do I bother? Rose asks me. My therapist." Emmett grinned because the likelihood he had a therapist was none. "I never have an answer. Not one that makes sense. Guess I'm just crazy about you."

Edward let the cold water saturate his thick hair. He stood and flung water everywhere, smoothing it back.

Emmett laughed, and Edward wiped his hand over the errant streams that ran down his chest. "Wakes me up," he said.

"Yeah, I had a bed like yours I'd be sleeping deep, too."

"Mom okay?"

"Wow. Two minutes to remember you didn't drop out of the sky. Dutiful son."

"She okay?"

"Mom's, mom."

"Then what's it about?"

"It's about worry." Emmett pointed to his temple. "Something's loose in there. I get it you're beyond all earthly need for comfort or normality. You and Wolverine. I get it. But Mom still doesn't get it. Mom cares very much how your need to be…special is packaged, and tenement living isn't cutting it for her."

Edward leaned against the sink, folded his arms. "I'm all right."

"Ah…by who's standards?" Emmett said, mirroring Edward's posture. "Easter Bunny's? He lives in a hole in the ground. Too."

Edward shook his head.

"You're running skinny, bro. Got that 'fasting' look you love. Oaths and vows, I've watched you take both. But it comes down to this? This look…like a refugee?"

Edward put a hand on his flat stomach. He'd always run thin. And lately, he'd eaten better than…other times. He curled his bi-cep. "I can take you on," he said to Emmett because he'd always run strong. It was their schtick. Sometimes it happened. They plowed into each other and went for it. But that had been years ago. Now it rang hollow, the words. Not even stirring sentiment.

"I ah…I'll call when I'm ready," he said to Emmett. It was the truth.

"For what, Edward? Ready for what?" Emmett said.

"For this. You. Mom. Any of it."

"You know that's shit, right? You know what you're trying to do. Again. Only this time, there's no institution behind it, bro. No orders. No general…no Pope. Nothing but you, standing there in this shithole telling me to fuck off."

"It's not like that," Edward said.

"No? It's not like that? Oh. Yeah. You like it fine. Shiny. Duty. To country and God. You like it like that. But I tell you what…this dump with the cardboard Serta? This is more real than any of that other bullshit. It's just you now, bro, and look at you. Look the fuck at you." Emmett dug into his pocket and pulled out a slender silver case. He clicked it open and took out a black card with all the necessary information on it. He laid it on the sad Formica with a click. "There it is Fuckface. I'll tell her we talked. When you can find your balls, give her a call."

He left then, turned and came back, laid a stack of bills next to the card. "Buy a damn bed."

Then he left for real, slamming the door.

Edward stayed in position at the sink, but curiosity about the money won out. He counted it and stacked it against the counter. And he wondered how long he had before his mother showed. But mostly, he wondered what Bella was doing. Because he could still smell the cologne. And it rankled him that after all of this time…it was still there, as strong as Iraq and Afghanistan and all that came after…thoughts and feelings…for the giver.


End file.
